Foreigner
by WishIWould
Summary: AU: Katara taken to the Fire Nation as a child and raised in Palace City, near Zuko and Azula. She never suspects her hidden past until she discovers the strange water powers that change her life. Will also follow Aang and Sokka's journey w o her.
1. Chapter 1

Part One: The Capture

Chapter One

Captain Shi Liang winced. He hated that hissing sound – the one that sizzled into the air at the Fire Nation soldiers' every footstep in this icy tundra. He'd been hearing a lot of it lately, and it bothered him more with every village he and his men would raid.

He surveyed the landscape around him – mostly flat plains and iced-over water, except for a few hills infested with penguins, to the east. All of it was completely covered in snow, up to two feet in some places, and yet it still fell thick and fast all around them.

Liang sighed. It all felt so dreary compared to the beauty of his Fire Nation home in the Palace City. The predawn light only contributed to the dull effect.

"I hate this snow," he muttered.

"Who doesn't?" his assistant, some young noble from an Earth Kingdom colony, replied.

The heavy snowfall lightened somewhat, allowing Liang to survey his troops more carefully. The snow muffled the sound of their incessant marching, but the distance of 45,000 feet would be covered quickly. If the sound didn't alert the villagers, the cloud of rising steam would. He hated that part, too – the distinct sound that belonged to the moment a village realizes that it is doomed.

"They're so stupid," said his assistant, who had apparently focused elsewhere.

Liang turned his gaze away from the ranks to his compatriot. "How so?" he asked, more for distraction than out of curiosity.

"Their defenses," the soldier said. "What is _everything_ here made of? Ice. To guard against what enemy? Fire. As if ice has any power to hold out against fire. It's just bad strategy."

"Mm," Liang grunted in response, focusing on the tiny village they drew ever nearer to. _Any second now_, he thought. _Any closer and we'd practically be banging down their doors…they'll_ have _to notice some time…_

At just that moment, he heard a strangled yell. Five hundred heads snapped to attention, to see a teenaged boy drop his empty pail, frozen outside his ice shelter. There was heartbeat of silence. Then –

"Charge!" Captain Shi and his men rushed the remaining distance to the village, which no longer lay silent.

"Remember," he shouted over the din, "capture every bender you find!" _If we find even one left, I'll char my sideburns_, he snorted internally.

Everyone knew the Southern Water Tribe was almost desolate of waterbenders. If this village had any, it was probably the last. The Fire Nation Navy had done its work well, he reflected, with mixed satisfaction and strain.

Shrugging off these thoughts, Captain Shi Liang dropped himself into the rush of men running towards the village. Already, he could see an orange glow in the distance, accented by steam. And as always, he could still hear that hissing.

* * *

"Hakoda!"

The Tribe Chief shot straight up out of his bed, causing his wife to let out a muffled gasp.

"Sorry, Kya," he mumbled as she clutched her heart, gasping slightly in the dark. "What is it?"

She didn't answer, but the smooth brow above her dark blue eyes curved upwards in the middle, wearing that desperate look of resignation; tired fear. He didn't even need to see the orange light playing across those eyes, or to hear the screams outside their small home, to realize what was happening.

"Fire Nation." He clenched his jaw and his fists, leaping out of bed. Stumbling into his boots, the Tribe Chief didn't even bother with armor as he shouted, "Ky! Take Sokka and Katara – carry Sokka if he refuses to wake up – just go, get out of the village!"

"Hakoda – " The fear in her voice had an edge of panic, now. "Hakoda, what if you don't come – "

"I _will_ come back," he told her, sweeping to her and crushing her gently in his arms. He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I don't know how not to."

He kissed her quickly but passionately. Then, before her lips had cooled, he had slipped out the door.

Kya didn't wait for the snow to settle behind her husband. She pulled out a bag, stuffing it quickly with extra coats, blankets, and seal blubber jerky, shouting as she did so, "Sokka! Sokka, get up! We have to run, now!"

A loud snore from the next room told her that her four-year-old son still had not woken. Some kind of collision just outside their hut shook the earth, and blocks of ice shuddered from the ceiling, crashing down just between her and her two-year old daughter's crib.

"Sokka!" she screeched, pulling little Katara unceremoniously from her bed. The toddler started wailing, only adding to the pandemonium of voices and sounds just outside their hut.

Kya burst through the open archway to her son's room. _Only Sokka_, she thought with exasperation as she saw that despite the screams and commotion, he still slept soundly, mohawk-cut straggling over the face he pressed into the soft tick, with his behind stuck straight up in the air.

"I said _now_!" she cried, grabbing his collar pulling him straight out of bed to lay across her free shoulder. "Wha - ?" His little voice sounded just behind her ear, speech still slurred with sleep.

The young mother didn't even bother answering, just vaulted herself and her two children through their back doorway. She didn't even see the thick metal bar; she only felt it bruise her ankles as she tripped to the ground. Sokka flew out of her grasp and landed with a heavy _thud_, and Katara clung to her shoulders ever harder.

Kya groaned simultaneously with her son. She jerked up to see her four-year-old lying unconscious, having knocked his head hard against the village's wall. Katara positively screamed, both frightened of all the noise and sudden motion, and furious at having fallen into the snow.

A chuckle sounded above her. "Well, well," a correspondingly deep voice said. "Let's see what _I've_ found."

Kya rolled onto her back, hands in fighting position. Above her stood four Fire Nation soldiers. The one smiling arrogantly wielded fire knives. With barely a twitch, it seemed, he had one of the hot knives searingly close to her throat. She swallowed, eyes burning hotter than the flames.

Katara, tripping over her parka, failed in her attempt to stand and fell over her mother.

"Oh look, a brat to match!" The soldier grinned in sheer glee. He grabbed the toddler with his left hand, clutching her to his chest while maintaining the knife's closeness to Katoka's throat. Katara shrieked, hammering her fists against her captor's thick armor.

"Don't you _dare _–" Kya growled ferociously at his attempt on her baby. She used her feet to twist around her attacker's ankles, bringing him crashing into the heavy snow. Another soldier grabbed her long, unbound hair, yanking her to her feet and pinning both her arms with his left arm. Kya heard her daughter scream again, this time in anger.

"Listen, ice rat," this soldier snarled contemptuously, as the one she'd knocked down groaned wordlessly.

"Uh, Chang..?" One of the soldiers who had been laughing said to his companion, sounding concerned. "I think we found a waterbender."

"What are you talking about?" The one called Chang, who had the fire knives before, stood and brushed the snow off his uniform. "He has her pinned, she couldn't possibly be–"

The soldier shook his head, pointing to the child on the ground. Katara's arms and legs flailed wildly as she rolled in the snow, screaming for her mother. Bits of the snow and ice around her arms flailed right along with her, creating a small whirlwind of ice above her head.

"I see," Chang said, running his hand over his masked helmet. "We have found a waterbender after all…."

Kya's eyes widened in fear. _No…. _

"Run, Katara!" she shrieked, her voice growing so hoarse that the cold air seemed to shoot daggers down her throat.

Kya caught one glimpse of her daughter's wide-eyed face before Katara scrambled to her feet, pumping her legs as fast as she could to follow her mother's order.

"Get her!" Chang shouted. "Get her and bring her to me!"

The two who had been laughing set off at a run, quickly tackling the toddler to the ground.

"_No!_" Kya shouted, tears spilling over her eyelids and freezing to her cheeks.

"And as for you…" Chang turned to her again, scowling. "You're far too much trouble to keep alive."

He ignited his hands once more. "I suppose I'll do the honors?"

Kya tried to turn her head, to see her children one more time. The man grasping her hair pulled her around to stare her killer in the face. _Please,_ she prayed. _Don't let them see…._

A burst of flame, and the area glowed a bright orange as another soul slipped out of its charred body.

* * *

"Mama!"

A horribly torn, high-pitch shriek rent the air.

Sokka groaned again, aware only of a huge pain in his head and screams all around him. Something felt…urgent…. Why?

"Mama! Thokka!" A little girl's voice…it sounded hysterical.

Katara?

"Katara!"

Sokka pushed himself up from the ground quickly, nearly passing out again with the pain in his head.

"_Thokka!_"

"_Katara!_"

The four-year-old jumped to his chubby feet, regardless of the pain. The scene around him focused itself to reveal his little sister, struggling fiercely against two big men, little shards of ice swirling around and seeming to attack them at random.

"Ouch! You little –"

The big man slapped her across the face. Katara gasped, blood trickling from her mouth.

"Katara!"

Sokka rushed at the big man who had punched her, attempting to jump onto his back and beat into his head.

"Argh! What – is – with – these – _children?_" the man bellowed, ripping Sokka from his skull and tossing the boy away. The man approached the kid, hand raised to flame.

"Forget the boy, just grab the waterbender!"

Obediently, the men abandoned Sokka and wrestled Katara down. One flung her over his shoulder, and the both of them ran.

"Katara!" Sokka shouted, disoriented and feeling blood in his nose.

"Thokka!" This time he could hear her tears in her voice.

"Katara!" He stumbled after the men, stars appearing in front of his eyes.

Her cry was growing fainter, farther away.

"_Katara!_"

Sokka collapsed, heart pumping manically, gulping deep, stinging breaths of icy air.

_"Katara! Katara! Katara!"_

She was gone.

* * *

"Retreat!" Shi Liang roared. "We've done enough here!"

He and the men around him backed up cautiously, hands still flaming as they stepped quickly backwards.

"Full retreat!" he repeated, finally turning his troops around to head to the Fire Navy ship.

_I suppose I'll be charring my sideburns tonight_, he thought sardonically, glancing back at the man with beaded braids. Waterbenders there certainly had been. They captured some, but the majority of them – and their water ships – remained unharmed.

After putting considerable distance between his troops and the broken village, Shi Liang put his hand up, signaling that they could slow down now.

_Not much of a victory today_, he thought. He snorted in contempt. _As if winning would've been much of a victory, anyway._

Both Captain Shi's pride and his morals kept him from enjoying his duty on these Water Tribe raids. It was embarrassing, to be reduced to shooting flames at peaceful villages.

Beyond that, it was wrong. Women and children … there were women and children hurt every time!

He boarded the ship wearily, sighing. But he had his orders from Fire Lord Azulon, and he could not disobey them. In this, he was absolute. Shi Liang would never be called disloyal.

Liang retired to the candle-lit room that served both as his quarters and his office, collapsing into the leather seat at his desk. His assistant, brush and paper ready, stood nearby.

"How many waterbenders this time?" he asked, pressing his temple.

"We collected nearly five, Captain Shi."

"Nearly?" Liang snapped. "It's either four or five, soldier."

"Well, sir, one of them isn't…an adult."

"What, a teenager?" He gave a pained look. _Hardly more than children. _"That would be five, soldier."

"No, not a teenager…" the soldier replied embarrassedly. "It's…a toddler, sir."

Shi Liang jumped to his feet, fire shooting from his nostrils.

"_What?_"

"Chang and his squadron collected a waterbending child, sir."

"How could – what were they – what?" Captain Shi composed himself – at least, minimally. "I must see Chang at once, soldier."

"Yes, sir. They are depositing her in the cells right now."

Shi Liang fumed, but followed the soldier to the underbelly of the ship. Even throughout the ship's halls, he could hear the sounds now – a child's wearied cries, punctuated with gasps for air. A sharp slap echoed to his ears.

"I said shut _up_, brat!"

"Chang!"

The soldier stood at attention, nearly dropping the girl in the process.

"Yes, sir?"

"What is the meaning of this?" Shi Liang's eyes burned cold.

"She's a waterbender, sir. She attacked my men."

Liang glanced at the girl, no more than two, who lay weeping piteously on the floor.

"She's a toddler."

"She's dangerous."

"You felt threatened by a baby?"

"She'll just grow to be more dangerous, sir."

"Do not contradict me!" Liang retorted sharply.

"But, sir, she's a water bender. Child or not -" he sneered - "she deserves it."

"That is it!" Liang's temper flared and his eyes burned cold. "You shame us all. On behalf of my honor and the honor of my troops, I challenge you to an Agni Kai!"

The man seemed to wilt, his eyes widening in fear.

"…Yes, sir."

"I shall see you top deck in fifteen minutes, soldier."

"Yes, sir."

Liang threw one last contemptuous look at Chang, who knew he'd face death soon, before exiting the room.

* * *

Clouds of frozen breath puffed from Hakoda's mouth as he panted to fill his lungs with oxygen again. He and the other men stood in fighting position 4,000_ cheks_ outside the village, waiting now that the Fire Nation soldiers had begun to retreat. Every single man held his fighting stance as their burgundy-clad enemies sprinted to their ship, refusing to take his eyes off the enemy until the vessel was safely beyond the harbor. A ragged cheer rose from the dozen or so men as they broke formation, shouting and embracing one another.

"Nice work, Chief." Hakoda felt a hand press his shoulder. He turned and saw his closest friend, Bato, who laughed and beat him on the back. Hakoda grinned, shaking the frozen locks of his partially beaded hair out of his sweaty face.

"Another victory, then?" he responded, wincing as the sweat began to freeze to his skin. He wanted to laugh in sheer relief. _I did it, Kya,_ he thought. _I'm coming back to you._

"All right, men!" he shouted, raising his arms. The group quieted. "Let's head home!"

With another round of whistles and victorious cheering, the ragtag band finally turned and walked towards their home.

"How many losses?" Hakoda asked Bato anxiously. He had seen several men fall prey to clever nets and traps the Fire Nation had prepared.

"Four men and women were captured, all waterbenders. But we suffered no deaths."

"That, at least, is a blessing," Hakoda said and sighed. He turned his eyes downward, pensive as the wind died down. All he could hear now was his men's triumphant jesting and the snow squeaking against their boots. _Those four people…they would suffer a fate perhaps worse than death._

Hakoda's eyes narrowed. He heard more than just squeaking, now. He raised his head and peered toward the village, letting out an audible gasp. Thick pillars of smoke rose into the overcast sky. The laughter and joking subsided. Now they could hear the wailing.

"Kya," he breathed, and before his mind could process any more he had started at a dead run. Vaguely, he could feel his men around him follow suit, but he paid them no mind. All he could see was the path to his home. All he could hear was his heart beating her name.

_Kya. Kya._

"Kya!" he screamed, ignoring the people lying and kneeling in the snow. The others would take care of them.

"Kya!" He ripped their door off its hinges and leapt into the hut. He barely registered the signs of a ransacking – broken dishes, Katara's splintered cradle – but he did register the silence. Wherever she was, she couldn't hear him, or could not respond.

"Sokka! Katara!"

Frantic, Hakoda tore through Sokka's bedroom, also in shambles, and also empty. He wrested the back door open and vaulted through.

Nearly blind with panic, he barely registered a faint whimpering at his feet.

"Katara?"

But it wasn't Katara. There was no sign of Katara anywhere. Sokka lay at his father's feet, curled against his mother's arm.

Hakoda's breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he thought he had died. His wife lay still, eyes closed. A charred circle crowned the center of her chest.

"Kya," he breathed.

Sokka's showed his face, frozen with tears, as his father dove to the ground.

"No!" he said, weeping, as he cradled her in his arms. His trembling fingers touched her face, her beautiful face. Raw blisters lined her neck and jaw, and her deep sapphire eyes stared glassily. Empty of all the life that brought them such sparkle. He touched his forehead to hers, gasping for breath as he sobbed.

Another, smaller hand, still gloved, reached towards her face. Sokka scooted closer to his mother, burying his face with one hand, using the other to close her eyes for the last time.

"Sokka," Hakoda gulped as his son's lower lip trembled fiercely. He pulled his son into an embrace, cradling his tiny body as Sokka pressed his gasping mouth into his father's parka. Father and son knelt together, shaking with sobs.

"I – I couldn't – " Hakoda heard Sokka try to speak into his parka.

"Shhh, I'm here," he said, pulling his son's face towards him.

"They took Katara, and I – I couldn't save her –"

"It's all right, Sokka," he soothed. "It'll be okay…."

But Hakoda couldn't hide the crack in his voice, or stop the sudden heave of pain that made his body quake.

_They'll pay for this,_ he vowed. _I'll follow them to the end of the earth, but they will pay._

* * *

Shi Liang knelt on the hard ground of the ship's makeshift arena, eyes closed, simply waiting. Waiting, and breathing. _In, out._ In through his nose to fill his diaphragm; out through his mouth to expel the dead air._In, out_. He felt the cool silk of the short drape across his shoulders, and felt calm. _In, out._ He felt the heat from the sun washing through the silk, and drew power from it. _In, out. _He heard the whispers of footmen surrounding him.

"Why is he taking this so seriously? He knows he'll destroy Chang, and in less than a heartbeat."

_In, out._

"My question is, why does he care so much, anyway? I mean," – Liang heard some shoes scuffing the floor – "it was stupid to take the kid…but it's only a little honor lost. None of us hold it against the Captain…."

He almost snorted. _In and out,_ he reminded himself. _In and out_. His breathing restored, he continued to wait. And think.

_There is no "little" honor. Honor…it is always worth its price._

Sweat trickled down his face. _In, out. In, out._

The entire vicinity quieted. Liang stood and turned, the scarlet cloth rippling to the ground. Chang stood opposite him, perhaps twenty _cheks_ away, his legs too close, his roots not firm, and the façade of cockiness failing to conceal the fear emanating from his every pore. _Sharp intake, slow release_….

He would go down so easily.

"Raugh!"

Liang let a fierce cry rip from his throat and thrust his fist forward. A pillar of flames split the air towards Chang, who had barely enough time to slice it with his own bending. Already, he stumbled.

Liang worked his way toward his foe quickly, bending jets of fire towards the soldier with every step. Chang managed to dodge each blow, but he was quickly losing balance.

With a firm, sweeping kick, the captain pulled his opponent's roots from under him. Chang fell clunkily to the rocky ground, gasping for breath and clutching his head. Shi Liang placed his foot gently on the other man's stomach. Eyes wide, Chang began to speak.

"Captain! Please, I – "

Liang's stance shifted sharply, his left fist drawing back and his right punching, aimed directly at Chang's head.

_BOOM._

Liang held position, his right fist still smoking. _In, out. _The weak winter sun still beat on his now-soaking back. _In, out._ He straightened, turning at last to the men encircling the arena. _In, out._ He bowed, right fist against his open left palm. Head down, he could feel the crowd follow suit. _In, out._

Rising again, he spoke.

"Throw his body overboard, Zhi."

"Yes, Sir."

The toddler's crying reached such a volume and pitch that even those on deck could hear it. Shi Liang winced, remembering that she had been left in the cell.

"And you – " he ordered, pointing to a foot soldier. The man jumped. "Take the child – the waterbender in question – to the infirmary. See if anything will calm her down."

"Yes, Sir."

He felt a dull thud just behind his right eye.

"I will be down to see her shortly."

"Yes, Sir."

He lifted his right hand in dismissal, and the crowd dispersed. Rubbing his forehead and sighing, Liang trudged to his captain's quarters once more for some quiet and a brief respite.

* * *

Late into the night, Liang shifted uncomfortably in a bare, steel chair, wondering how he had gotten where he was. _Stuck here in this cramped cabin, doing nothing more than babysitting the source of my troubles_. He sighed, pulling his feet under the chair again. He knew why; he just didn't understand it.

It had taken hours for the girl to tire of fighting her captors, even the ones merely trying to check her health. She had exerted herself all day in her struggling, shouting such phrases as "Mama," "Thokka, Daddy!" and "Nemme go!"

Finally, hours after Liang had arrived to oversee her check-up, she finally resigned herself to merely panting from exhaustion, and struggling tiredly every few minutes when they pulled her thick parka off, checked her pulse, and other such things.

After the medic finished poking and prodding and pronounced her healthy, the little girl simply fell asleep right on the cushioned patient table she'd been laid upon. Shi Liang and the other men in the room merely glanced at one another as if to ask, _what now? _They all turned to the sleeping child. She lay on her side, chubby arms clutching herself and legs tucked into her body to keep warm. Something stirred within Liang's breast.

"I'll stay here and watch her tonight," he said. The others turned to him.

"Sir…are you sure? Any of us can – " But he waved the soldier off mid-sentence.

"I'm sure," he said. "It's high time I try my hand at the old guard duty." He made a face jokingly. "However weak a brand of it this one may be."

They had filtered out, all too understanding.

And now, into the early hours of the morning, he still sat awake by the little girl's side. She wore only a simple white shift, now that her parka had been removed. After all, it had been just the end of the night when she must've been awoken…just today, earlier today, when Chang had taken her….

She twitched uncomfortably. He wondered what she dreamed tonight….

_She ran and ran through the snow, laughing as she ran after Her Mama and Her Sokka-brother. _

"_Penguin, penguin!" she shouted, grasping Her Sokka's hand and puffing. _

Technically, she was obviously a child. A toddler, at least. She had certainly demonstrated her limited use of both words and mobile skills throughout the day today, so she wasn't a baby anymore. Yet Liang could hardly stop himself from calling her one in his mind.

_Her Mama knelt to smile at Katara's level and showed her a soapstone doll. "Here, baby," Her Mama said. "Your Daddy made this for you today."_

Liang leaned forward, resting his chin on the heel of his hand. This baby just seemed so foreign, with her brown hair so much lighter than the black he had always been used to. Her skin was also darker – completely in contrast to the almost pasty norm of Fire Nation civilians. Her eyes sat too wide from each other, and though lidded, he knew they were a strange hue – sapphire blue, in fact.

With all these differences…why, oh why, did she remind him so of another child?

_But Katara paid Her Mama__no mind, since she was running and running after a __b__ig, squishy penguin Her Sokka had pointed out to her._

Nearly three years ago. He remembered it so clearly. His wife, Maylin, had approached him under the filtered shade of the rock garden with a glow in her eyes and a tender, secret smile. He had forgotten himself completely, lifting her into the air and spinning a circle, then kissing her hard and smiling.

Months later, their joy showed in the swelling of her belly. He had loved to pat it as he walked by, and she would give him that look.

Liang sighed, cradling his face in both hands now.

_She shrieked with glee, straddling the penguin as it zoomed down and snowy banks. And at the same time, she sat on Her Mama's lap, chewing on Her Mama's necklace. "Stop that!" Katara heard, but it didn't matter, because she was sliding down the hill, nearly straight into Her Sokka's waiting, open arms._

There had been blood. A lot of blood. And through the openings and closings of the bedroom doors, Liang had caught sight of Maylin's pale, sweating face, almost too still. Almost as if she, too, was gone. Like their baby was gone. A boy, stillborn but perfect, with skin as white like a lily and downy, jet black hair. If he'd ever opened his eyes, they would have been brown, like his mother's.

Their baby, their first and only baby, Tai Yang. He had died before he had been born. For days, and even years later, Maylin would fall asleep against Liang's chest, having soaked his nightshirt through with tears she might not have even known she'd shed. The surgeons said she would never carry a baby to term.

_Katara crash-landed into Her Sokka, and they tumbled in the powdery snow, laughing and struggling to stand. "Leggo my wolf tail!" he shouted, laughing and yanking the short strands she'd someday grow out like her mother's loops._

This baby, this child lying on the naval patient's bed, was nothing like the child he'd lost. He just had to remind himself of that, no matter how well he could see Tai Yang in the round, young cheeks and small form, never mind that Tai Yang would have been just her age.

_Her giggling turned into shrieks. Her Sokka was gone, and instead there were monsters all around her – red monsters, with skulls for faces and fire in their hands. They grabbed her, heaving her onto their broad shoulders._

"Nemme go! _Thokka!_"

Her hoarse shouts startled Liang out of his reverie. The girl seemed stuck in a nightmare, one she couldn't wake from. _Most likely a nightmare that will still be there when she does._

She thrashed in the bed, crying and shouting and tearing at the cushions. Liang stood and approached her, hesitant. Shaking his head at his stupidity, he reached beneath her arms and held her as he'd always imagined holding Tai Yang.

The baby – girl – kept crying, struggling against his hold. He didn't know any lullabies, and doubted he'd try singing them if he did. For a tedious quarter of an hour, all he could do was step side to side in a swaying pattern, gently bouncing her instinctively.

But then her head began to droop against his chest, and her fists stopped thrashing. She had fallen into a deeper sleep, the kind of sleep that had no dreams. But Liang kept holding her, long after that little storm had passed. He used his right hand to gently rub her back, still swaying in that soft two-step pattern, for yet another hour. When he finally lay the sleeping baby down on her cot once more, he had to pry her rolled fingers from his shirt.

* * *

**A/N: -EDIT- Combined old chapters 1 and 2 for a bigger chapter one! These two were my most...raw, I guess, least polished chapters, and it makes more sense to have them grouped together. So here goes!  
**

**Old ch. 1 notes (ends on Liang asking for an Agni Kai): So, I had this idea, wrote the first chapter and posted it here and at all within a 4 hour time period - most of which was after my bed-time. Deeefinitely tired, I was! **

**A couple of notes: Shi Liang and Chang are original (not that Chang lasted long,). And, in case I didn't make it clear, "Shi" is the surname, and "Liang" his first name. Hope you enjoyed!**

**Old ch. 2 notes (starts on Hakoda coming back to the village): a couple of things today! I know that the water tribe men aren't benders in the show. The idea is that, as per episode 308 where the Fire Nation took waterbenders prisoner, the Southern Water Tribe wouldn't have had any benders left by the time Katara was old enough to try to start learning. But in this alternate universe? Who knows?  
**

**In a similar vein, any changes in this fic to the world of Avatar as known in the show should logically be as a result of just one change: that Chang took Katara during the raid, and that I set said raid about 4 years earlier than it would've been according to the show. Please leave comments; it helps so much! If there is a serious beta with a lot of knowledge in grammar, narrative flow, and characterizations, I'm interested! Basically, if you read this and think "but it has the potential to be so much better and I know how," then I'd love to have you as a beta. :-) **

** link: http://wishiwould . deviantart . com **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The stagnant air of the ship's below-deck infirmary brushed against Katara's warm skin, feeling…odd. Still struggling to stay asleep, the two-year-old merely scowled with her closed eyes and rolled over. But something felt uncomfortably different – something felt _open._ Not like the cocoon of warmth Her Mama would place her in every night, the little sleeping bag lined with polar seal-bear fur. The_ air_ was _touching _her, moving and giving her goose-toad bumps.

Katara opened her eyes, blinking away the gunk that had gathered in their corners. Finding herself in the dank, steel hold, she jumped a little and felt startled tears begin to prick. The fear threatened to overflow, until she caught sight of the man. A strange man in funny clothes, who slept in a nearby chair. Forgetting her tears, Katara crawled up to her knees and knelt at the edge of her cot, not even wondering why the sight of him set her at ease.

Settling back to sit on her legs, the toddler put her hands on her thighs and stared curiously. She cocked her head, thinking vaguely that he was different from…and the same…as Her Daddy. She didn't even bother to delve into how and why she thought so.

"Hmph," she said softly.

Liang woke with a gasp, half drawing his sword and jerkily raking his hand through his hair. He squinted his eyes and shook his head violently in an attempt to clear it. Finally, the tired captain focused enough to see the waterbending girl kneeling right before him. They made eye contact; her dark blue eyes peered curiously into his thin brown ones. He froze, wary of how she might react. This was the longest period of time he'd seen her go without screaming. Finally, she smiled. Just a little ghost of a grin, playing shyly with the corner of her lips, but enough that Liang could feel the tension he'd been holding in his neck go lax.

"Come on," he said, not sure how much she would understand or react to his speech. "Let's get dressed."

Obediently, the girl stood and stretched her chubby fingers upward. Liang looked around quickly, not sure – ah, there, on the ground. He bent down to rustled through a pile of cast-aside clothing and blankets to find the small blue robe she'd been wearing before. _May as well give her _something _familiar,_ he thought as he pulled it, then her parka, over the girl.

Now warmly dressed, she sat down again. The girl watched him contentedly as she pulled at her short locks with drool-covered fingers. Liang hesitated.

"Do you…have a name?"

She smiled again, briefly.

"K'tara."

* * *

_Katara._

Hakoda stood at the prow of his fleet's lead ship, ignoring the biting wind and mist that froze to his eyebrows. He stared straight into it, discerning as much through the storm as he possibly could. If anything, anything at all resembled the flag of a fire nation ship….

In his hand he clutched a necklace – a thick, dark blue ribbon, with a lighter blue charm dangling from it. His wife had worn this necklace, the one carved with waves rolling above a gentle sea. All her days, she had worn it. As had her mother before her.

Kanna. Even now, Hakoda could hear the echoes of his mother-in-law's deep moan of anguish when she had seen her only daughter's body laid out for the village funeral. Never mind that she had been cleaned and redressed carefully by Hakoda himself, nor that a soft lilac blanket had covered any sign of Kya's fatal wound. The body of a daughter lying before a parent…no matter how well-laid out, no matter that the shock was softer than finding her in the snow with a hole in her chest, the pain of losing a child could never be softened.

Hakoda had never seen Kanna lose her strength and composure until that moment. She had fallen to her knees, weeping over Kya's body and crying, _My child! My only daughter…. _The rest of her words had been indistinguishable, even though the rest of the village assembled there had been silent as the falling snow.

It was at that time that Sokka had tugged his father's sleeve.

_Katara's still out there_, he'd said simply, watching his Gran-Gran weep. He stared along with the rest of the villagers at his mother's body, though this time without tears. Then he had looked up at his father, determined and serious. In his hand he held his mother's necklace. _This is hers now,_ he'd said. _You need to bring her back…so she can wear it…._

Hakoda squinted once more, unresponsive to snowflakes' increasing thickness except to blink them away. He stood just as still when Bato's hand touched his shoulder.

"Hakoda," his comrade said. He didn't answer. "Hakoda, you won't see them. We won't catch up to that ship for another few days, at least."

He remained immobile and silent, almost picturesque – a tall, dark sentinel, keeping a still and endless watch over the ocean's rolling expanse.

Hakoda did not even register the passage of time, or his friend's disappearance. He was startled to find his friend had left; just as startling was the blanket he found draped across his shoulders. He loosened his grip on the azure necklace enough to pull the blanket tighter around him, thinking how grateful he felt to have a man like Bato for a friend. He did not even register the print left on his hand – a perfect mirror image of the pattern on Kanna's necklace. Kya's necklace. Katara's necklace.

_Katara…._

* * *

Liang could feel Katara's tiny body tensing against him when he carried her above deck. Soldiers, too, froze for half-seconds at a time to take in the sight: their captain, who had bloodied his hands only the day before, carrying in his arms the little trouble-maker that had grieved them so much.

Shi Liang did not care so much what the men thought. Logistically, in his arms was the best way to carry the child. And he knew she couldn't be left in the cell again, for the obvious reason that she would be harder to care for when upset; and this was besides the fact that such cruelty is the exact reason why he had challenged Chang to begin with. No, they would see the novelty, and perhaps some would remember his lost son and think they understood, but all of them would move on and continue in their duties. And none would question him.

His worries centered more on Katara. The girl trembled like an icicle about to fall and shatter – a sight he'd become rather more familiar with in the past months than he would have liked. Not only that, but she clung to him ferociously. The sight of the other soldiers, with their slotted masks and uniforms, must have frightened her. But Liang could hardly have left her alone, and he needed to speak to…ah, there.

"Lieutenant On," he called, bouncing Katara into a more manageable position on his hip. The man in question, who had been reviewing some detail of the ship's workings with a crew member, turned at hearing his title called.

"Captain Shi," the man dismissed his interviewee, responding to Shi Liang with a bow. The lieutenant raised his eyebrow just barely, a subtle sign of his surprise to see the captain out of uniform.

"Walk with me," Liang ordered, seeing how Katara had begun to gasp with panic at being surrounded with soldiers. He rubbed her back absent-mindedly and she buried her face in his shirt.

They entered the ship's cabin by a corridor that seemed overwhelmingly dark in contrast with the bright sunlight and white snow aboveboard. Katara seemed to calm, though still tense as a sparrokeet about to take wing.

"I need some kind of bedroom outfit for the child – something besides a cot in the infirmary," Liang said.

The Lieutenant looked non-plussed. "Sir, we are bunked to capacity with soldiers. There_is_ no other place available, except perhaps the cell she had originally – "

"No," Liang cut his subordinate off sharply. "She will not be put in there again. It's pure abuse – she's only a child."

"I thought not, Sir," said On dryly, with a knowing smile that both annoyed and, strangely, comforted his superior.

Liang stopped mid-corridor and put Katara down, sighing and leaning his back against the steel-plated siding. "What _can_ I do, then, On?" he asked, dropping the formal address and resting the back of his head on the cool steel. Katara merely held his leg, strangely still, as if she knew somewhat about her fate being decided.

"…Sir, I have a suggestion," On responded slowly. Liang grunted, a signal for him to continue.

"You could always have a cot set up in your own chamber."

Liang's face tautened. "No."

"But, sir –"

"I _can't_, On, don't you see? I can't – the men will talk, and will see –"

"See what?" On interrupted riskily, knowing full well that he and his friend had already crossed the line of captain and subordinate. Most other men would lose at least a finger for such disrespect.

"What is it the men would see that they don't already see now?" He dropped his voice to a low-pitch, urgent tone. "They already talk. They already saw how you stayed with her on watch for the night. But they _understand_, Liang. They know – we _all_ know – about your son –"

"She is _not_ my son," Liang answered coldly as his heart lurched. "She will never be my son."

"But –"

"Tai Yang is dead!" he roared, swinging his right, glowing fist into the solid barrier. "No other child will bring him back!"

Katara fell backwards and huddled against the opposite wall, fear in her strangely wide-set eyes. The men stood in silence for a moment.

"Pick her up, Liang."

"No."

"Pick her up."

He shifted tensely.

"…Fine."

He approached the toddler, pain for Tai Yang and the new roots of affection for this child battling silently in his heart. He reached for Katara, almost surprised that, despite the shining in her eyes that he suspected belied tears, she reached back for him. The separate pangs in his heart seemed to meld into one giant throb as she wrapped her arms around his neck and started sobbing quietly.

"She needs you, Liang," On said quietly, eyes averted. "But…you need her, too."

Liang merely stood there. Finally, a ragged sigh escaped his lips.

"Lieutenant," he said hoarsely. On stood at attention, though they continued to avoid one another's gaze. "Have a cot and some supplies for the waterbending child brought to my quarters. She will need close attention."

"Yes, sir," On responded gruffly. His boots rapped harshly against the metal flooring, eventually echoing into silence. Liang remained where he stood, waiting for is quaking shoulders to calm, and the tears running down his face to pass.

* * *

Half a foot of new snow lay untouched on the village ground, just as the winter sun broke clearly over the horizon. Sokka scuffed his boots across the sparkling plain, audibly crunching the smooth, frozen powder into a marked path headed straight to the village wall.

Few villagers besides the four-year-old were out and about this early in the morning. A teenager hacked at the sheet of ice covering the well outside the village, and a younger mother knelt over a distant fire pit to dig out and pull off the canvas covering; other than that, Sokka and the clear blue sky had the village to themselves.

Subconsciously sticking his tongue out in concentration, he knelt near the corner and began to pull the powder into piles around him. Scooping all the snow into a curved arc, he began to pack it down firmly. _Whump, whump, whump_. He stretched the curve so it met the rounded wall at one end, creating nearly enclosed shape.

Higher and higher, Sokka piled and packed snow, so intensely focused on his task that he didn't even notice how wet and flat his wolf tail had become, or how the bits of spittle from having stuck out his tongue had frozen to his chin. But the foundations of his watchtower began to take shape.

By the time Gran-Gran called the boy in for a breakfast of stewed sea prunes, he has built thick, solid wall up to his waist. For hours afterwards he worked on it again, piling and packing and building the walls higher. Soon the opening on the right had arched into a door – a crawlspace for anyone else, but an open archway for a boy Sokka's size – and he began the same process for a platform and stairs within.

Days passed, and Hakoda and his men still did not return. But day after day, Sokka would build, his crude engineering skills impressing the young teenagers and women who stopped for moments at a time to observe. When they asked what he was doing, he ignored them, keeping on task – a hugely abnormal feat, for this boy at least – until he had completed the tower.

Thereafter, evening after evening, he would take his post at the tower's window, seeming a miniature replica of his father's vigil at the prow. Every night Sokka would watch the western horizon for something - some sign that his father and sister would return.

_You'll come back,_ he promised Katara, focusing at some distant point in the snow-covered plains. _I'll be here when you do._

* * *

The next day, and in the days following, not a single soldier commented on Captain Shi's small, dark-skinned shadow. As the ship finally moved into warmer, northern waters, Liang found that he minded less and less when he had to tow Katara along behind him, explaining in children's terms how the ship worked, or holding her hand at the same time as shouting orders.

The lieutenant had been right; either the soldiers thought they understood, or they kept their grumbles and complaints out of his earshot. But despite their silence on the subject, Liang could see in their eyes – his men felt uncomfortable. Some even looked downright resentful. _They're right_, he thought. _What is a Fire Nation captain doing, fraternizing so comfortably with an enemy prisoner?_

Even worse, he found that he cared less and less with each day. Not only about what his crew thought, but about this conquest. This entire war. Liang found himself more invested in caring for Katara, and racing back to his wife and home, than anything else – especially invading peaceful towns and villages for the sake of "sharing our nation's beauty" with the world. Traitorous thoughts, he knew. But he thought them, their potency overcoming even his loyalty to the Fire Lord. Apparently, the feelings that had been stirring within him for some time had been made stronger by this little girl.

"But what is he going to _do_ with her?"

Continuing on his inspection of the deck and working soldiers, Liang kept his expression stony, as if he hadn't heard the soldier's hissed remark.

"He can't keep her. He must know that. Just because he locks her in his quarters instead of a cell when he can't have her tailing him, doesn't mean she's not a prisoner still."

"The captain knows what he's doing. Now be quiet, he's right there!"

The pair of foot soldiers fell silent, but Liang continued the train of thought in his mind; it was one he'd trod over and over in the past few days._She's a prisoner, it's true. No matter this attachment, I can't forget that…nor my duty as a captain…._

Suddenly, the entire ship lurched to a stop with a groaning creak. Liang spread his stance instinctively, but most of the men stumbled to their knees or fell on their faces.

"What the –" While the others climbed warily to their feet, Liang ran to port side. He clutched the ship's edge until is knuckles shown white to match his draining face as he saw – the entire ship's base had been encase in solid ice. Ice that, at this climate, was beyond improbable. Ice that crept up the ship's side towards him.

He jerked his head up again, and saw emerging from a wall of mist a small fleet of blue-sailed ships. _Waterbenders_, he thought, clenching his jaw.

"We're under attack!" he shouted, abandoning all thoughtfulness and switching firmly into his military mindset.

Immediately, his soldiers leapt into action. Some ran to man the cannons, while others used their firebending to melt the ice that stalled the ship.

"FIRE!" he shouted, and a flaming chunk of rock exploded into the air. One of the Water Tribe boats was hit square in the middle of the deck and caught fire. Even from here, Liang could see the attackers of that ship scurrying to quench the flames.

But the waterbenders kept coming. The attempts to melt the ship free were failing miserably – the ice had climbed the edges, and was now invading the deck with shoots of pointed icicle creepers.

The entire vessel shuddered, and they all heard several cracks ring out. From his position, Liang heard one of his men shout, "They're puncturing the ship – they're filling it with water!"

He understood their tactics now. They meant to take the ship down, and drown him and his soldiers out.

The men realized this, too. After a moment of silence, they returned to their duties, efforts redoubled in desperation.

The ship began to pull down downward, knocking some of the wearier men to their feet again. It was obvious that they had lost – that it had not even really been a fight to begin with….

"Captain!"

He heard a shout, but he seemed frozen to the spot he stood at, staring as the Water Fleet moved closer and closer.

"Captain Shi!"

Lieutenant On ran up to him, panting. "Captain?"

"Yes?" Liang responded vaguely, still transfixed by the approaching sailboats.

"Captain, there's nothing we can do. The ship is going down."

"Unh," he grunted in agreement.

"Liang? You know there is…an escape boat."

He tore himself from his reverie to look sharply at On.

"What?"

"We have a one-man dinghy, sir. You can get away – you can still survive this."

He sighed. "On, I can't just abandon –"

"We all want you to go, Liang. Every single one of us."

Several soldiers stood and worked close by, silently listening. But at this, several stopped and watched Liang. Their faces confirmed what On had said.

He was torn. He couldn't simply leave….And yet, already, his traitorous mind went even further than running cowardly, to save himself. It leapt to the cabin, in his quarters, where Katara sat alone at that very moment, perhaps startled by the ship's sudden jerking and shaking. He imagined here there, alone, as the water level rose around her, engulfing her. He could not let that happen.

"And…" he said hesitatingly, remembering the looks he'd noted just that morning. Looks of discomfort, even distrust. "And if I take Katara…?"

A soldier caught his worried gaze. The same soldier, in fact, that he had heard complaining about the girl not one half hour ago. He was one of the men who now stood near enough to hear his and On's interchange. The man hesitated, creating a knot in his captain's chest…but he nodded, as if giving permission.

"Go, Liang." The lieutenant pushed him softly. Liang stumbled back, almost in a daze.

"Go, now!"

He ran. Across the now-slippery deck, he tripped and stumbled into the corridor, from whence even more soldiers rushed. He understood why; by the time he reached his quarters the water flooding in had reached ankle-depth. He wrenched the door open, and found Katara standing on his bed, pressing herself to the headboard in fright.

"Katara!" he yelled, wading now as another wave of water splashed up to his calves.

She crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for him.

"Come on," he said gently, scooping her into his arms. "Hold in tight!" he cried, charging out again.

He burst onto the open deck again, where some men already found their legs bound to the deck by twisting ice. Their cries momentarily distracted him.

"Captain!" On's call brought him back to earth. "Over here!"

He rushed over to where the lieutenant had prepared the dinghy on ropes, to lower into the sea. Liang pried Katara from him, and placed her on the small boat.

"On," he said, cursing the tear that escaped his eye. "Thank you." He embraced the man.

"They always said you were cut out to be a captain, sir," On said. "…But I don't think you were."

Their eyes didn't meet. A pillar of ice crashed into the deck, and Liang hurried to join Katara in the boat.

The scene of icy carnage disappeared from view as On pulled the ropes downward. The dinghy landed with a thud on the ice. Katara cried out as it slid and tipped a bit.

"Hang on," Liang said, vaulting over the edge onto the solid surface. He righted the boat and pushed it into the free-flowing water, jumping in again to start the engine. It jumped to life with a rumble and a spewing of smoke. Grabbing the rudder, he directed their boat northwestward. Soon, the battling vessels shrank away in the distance.

* * *

On did not _have_ a moment to spare in watching the dinghy take off into the sunset. The moment the boat landed below, he had to wrench his fingers away from the ice threatening to bind him permanently to the ropes he'd been gripping.

By now, a scattered pattern of ice shards and burn marks scarred the deck's metalwork, as each man fought for his life.

"Roshi, look out!" On screamed as he sent a fireblast towards his comrade, who ducked just in time for the flying chunk of ice behind him to take the full brunt of the blow.

The lieutenant did not have time to wait for thanks. He raced to stern, melting any ice he saw creeping stealthily towards his feet. At the banister, he stopped only one he reached the back banister, and saw how close the lead waterbending vessel had come.

From here, he could at least deal substantial damage to them, before it was too late. On searched for a susceptible target. There.

His eyes locked on the man directly across from him. He stood tall and unwavering at the prow, eyes serious behind the two beaded locks the wind whipped so ferociously into his face. On felt his eyes drawn to the man's tightly clenched right hand. A necklace dangled from it. The lieutenant felt his heart stop, but didn't know why.

_On blew a hole in the nearest snow hut before shaking his head in disgust. "Come on, men!" he shouted. "Only women and children here – let's join the _real_ fight!" _

_Despite his ability to block out scenes of tragedy while on these raids, On couldn't help but register some – just flashes. A middle-aged woman lay still in the square. Three children had bloodied their hands with makeshift knives of ice. A toddler girl screamed as a Fire Nation soldier wrenched her away from her mother's body. _

Katara? That little girl…?

_The mother's chest smoked slightly, and her parka had ripped a bit to reveal a simple shift's neckline and a small blue charm. _

This necklace.

_On always sneered at himself for his stupidly knack for picking up details. His wife always joked he would make a better poet than soldier. He shook it off and rode on, ready to deal some damage to _real_ soldiers. _

That woman had been Katara's mother. This man with the stony eyes and beaded hair must be….

On finally realized the true purpose of the Water Tribe attack. They'd lost their daughter; they wanted her back.

"Liang!" he screamed, tearing away from the stern and leaping over the banister.

His knees hit solid ice, which began to worm its way up his knee. The lieutenant had to fight to wrest his knee free of its grip.

"Liang, come back!" he cried, running again. He almost tripped and fell as the freezing water rushed to engulf his right leg, twisting into an icy lock. "Liang – eurgh –"

The leg would not move, just as no one on deck could move anymore. It - it was stuck, he had to –

"Argh!" The light from his blast faded as the ice steamed away. His foot now blistered and melting, but free, On charged to the port side. He could still see the boat, a little way into the distance.

"LIANG!" he shouted, ignoring the cold shock of ice slithering from the ship's side to his hands and arms. "Liang, she's all they want, they just want her home!"

Now the ice melted through his uniform's fabric to freeze against the bare skin of his back. He gasped and flinched as it enclosed his chest, tightening. He felt his heart beating wildly against it.

"Come back, Liang! Just bring her back!"

The ice locked his neck in its jutted position. On panted for breath enough to let out a final screech.

"LIA –"

But the ice entered his throat, killing the word before it could finish echoing across the water.

* * *

Hakoda grabbed the nearest Water Tribesman by the collar.

"Have they found her yet? Where is she?"

He felt his self-control slipping, but the man merely shrugged and darted away. They had boarded the Fire Nation ship but five minutes ago, finding the deck glazed with ice and every soldier there frozen solid. Like grotesque statues they stood in the background as he and his men marched onto the deck.

"The prisoners were all waterbenders," he mumbled anxiously. "We let the water in for them, they should have gotten free…."

At that moment, the cabin door burst open. A rush of water and the four waterbending prisoners stumbled through.

"Hanuk!" he heard a man cry, running to embrace his wasted-looking friend. Hakoda's eyes widened in horror. It had only been a week…had they been fed at all? Compulsively, he grabbed Hanuk's shoulder, careful to keep his grip soft.

"Hanuk," he said, desperation echoing in his voice. "Hanuk, have you seen – is Katara - ?"

But the man merely shook his head. "On the first day, the captain took her out of her cell – just after having killed a man," Hanuk said. "We just finished searching the ship – she's nowhere to be found."

One of the other prisoners, a woman bender, started weeping. Hakoda said nothing, taking a step back.

"Ka – Katara –" he choked out, his lungs heaving.

"We think – " the woman started, emotion strong in her voice. "Hakoda, she must be – gone – they must've – "

Hakoda fell to his knees, feeling as if a cavern had ripped itself a space his chest. Katara…gone?

Bato knelt by his side. "Hakoda…."

He didn't respond. He could only stare up into the sky, his breath becoming ragged.

"Hakoda, she's with her mother now. They're together again."

"NO!" Hakoda screamed, jumping to his feet as adrenaline pumped through his body.

"Search again! Check everywhere! We will NOT – LEAVE – THIS – SHIP until we find her!"

They searched, again and again. Every man and woman there checked behind every crate and corner, watching for a little girl, frightened and hiding – or even a tiny, charred body. But they never found her.

* * *

The sun looked to be two hours above the horizon, so Sokka headed faithfully to his new watchtower again, either ignoring or not registering Gran-Gran's sigh and small smile.

Half an hour passed, and Sokka had pulled his chin down onto his folded arms, getting bored with the endless watching. Tracing a pattern in the wall with his gloved fingers, he laid his cheek on his lightly powdered sleeve and glanced out at the horizon again.

The boy jumped up, leaning almost his entire body out the window. In his haste, he'd misjudged his balance.

"Whoa!" Sokka yelled as he tumbled out of the window, sliding down the wall's incline. He crashed into the snow bank, creating a cloud of powder in his wake.

"Ugh!" He sat up, spitting snow and shaking the miniscule crystals out of his wolf tail. Not a second later, he was up and racing around the wall toward the village gate. His arms and legs pumped as fast as they could as he screamed, "Dad's back! Dad's back! The ships are coming!"

Sokka's enthusiastic call echoed vibrantly from person to person, and soon the entire village had gathered near the waters edge. The crowd stood silent, excitement and anxiety almost palpable in the air. The five boats anchored themselves near the icy shore, lowering their distinct blue sails before extending the gangplank to disembark.

Sokka nearly held his breath, eager to see his father crest the plank with Katara's hand in his. Several men filed down, one supporting another as they marched to the villagers' cheers.

"Kortak! Oh, Kortak!" A sobbing woman pushed Sokka aside, nearly sprinting to the Tribesman supported by his fellow. With a disgusted "plegh," Sokka again spit snow – this time mixed with mud – out of his mouth. He stood, starting to bounce on the balls of his feet. Where was Dad?

Finally, he appeared. Alone, and shoulders slumping, Hakoda stumbled down the walk as if half-blind. The villagers quieted, some of the returned warriors whispering into their neighbors' ears.

"Dad?" Sokka asked tentatively as his father approached. Hakoda merely gave him a look filled with pain. His fist went loose, and something small fell. Sokka watched his father stalk past. Most of the villagers dispersed, as well. He tried to follow after him, but Gran-Gran's veiny hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

"Let me go!" he said, wrenching himself free. But instead of pursuing his father, Sokka knelt on the ground. So they hadn't found Katara. Did that mean she…?

A depression in the snow caught his eye. Remembering how something fell from Hakoda's hand earlier, Sokka reached a gloved hand in. His fingers closed around a small, hard circle. A coin?

He pulled out his fist, surprised to see his mother's necklace lying there. Turning his head, the boy watched again the retreating figures of his father and the other villagers._ So_, he realized._They've given up on her._

He stood abruptly, clenching the necklace in his hand as his father had done just days before. Eyes burning with tears he didn't want to shed, he simply stood, body tautening until he couldn't handle it anymore. He started to run.

"Sokka!" he heard his grandmother calling, but he didn't look back. HE didn't wipe his tears, either. He just kept running, and running, and running, as the day faded into night.

Finally, it seemed as if his heart were about to burst. Sokka trudged slowly, weightily, back to the village gate. But once there, he didn't go home. Instead, he followed the perimeter of the wall, back in a long curve to his watchtower.

Back at the familiar platform, kneeling before the window, he finally wiped the tear streaks from his face. He let the necklace's charm fall from his hand, and dangled it in front of the star-filled sky.

_They gave up_, he thought again, _but I won't._

Sokka tore off his thick parka and pulled his sleeve up, exposing his skinny bicep.

"Here, Katara," he said aloud, his young voice trembling as he wrapped the necklace tightly around his upper arm, "I'll wear this necklace now…so I can give it to you when you come back."

He shivered, staring up at the newly risen moon, far more serious than he had ever been before.

"I'll watch for you."

* * *

**A/N: So, this chapter is a day late...but nearly twice as long, so I hope that makes up for it! Many thanks to everyone who reviewed (29 reviews and 830 views in 4 weeks!), especially KaliAnn, Vogueaholic and Dea BGA for their more in-depth reviews. Also to Callistohime for, again, reading bits as I write! **

**DA link: http://wishiwould. requested that a girl from DA illustrate a scene from Foreigner, and she did a wonderful job! http://sirianna89.  
**

**Please leave reviews, whether you like the fic or not! Lauren  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Part Two: The Fire Nation

Chapter Three

The evening sun sank behind the mountains ahead, silhouetting the Fire Nation island that meant home to the man, and mystery to the child he held.

"We're here," Liang whispered, unsure whether or not the girl slept. But she looked up tiredly, blue eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, and whimpered, oh so softly. Though the South Pole's villages were hardly the height of plenty, the captain felt certain that Katara had never gone two full days without sustenance before. The toddler hadn't reacted well to their lonely sojourn to the Fire Nation, and she showed less vitality with each passing hour.

This worried Liang far more than he cared to admit, much more than his own shrinking stomach did. Even now, with their destination so close, she seemed unusually disinterested. He thought she looked pale.

The dinghy's engine coughed and shuddered, nearing the end of its fuel supply. _Just a little bit farther_, he thought. _We're almost there. _

Not caring where or how he and his charge got off the tiny, wretched boat, Liang aimed for the first beach he caught sight of – a thin strip of sand that seemed relatively rock-free. When the prow hit the sandy bottom with a _bump_, he felt his gut tighten. Katara just moaned.

With muscles stiff from two days cramped in that loathsome tin can, Liang tried and failed to stand. Instead he stumbled over the boat's edge to hit the water with face-first. He sat up, now thoroughly drenched, and coughed up a handful of briny seawater.

"Come on, Katara," he said. He crawled to his feet and dragged the boat onto the sand. "There should be an inn over there – we can have dinner." As he pointed to the cluster of lights through the bare winter trees, Liang even smiled at her, though it hurt to work his aching muscles from the frown they'd been stuck in for so long.

Katara roused herself enough to grab his hand. She nearly slipped into the water herself when she exited, but Liang caught her and carried her to shore. Together, the captain and his ward trudged inland. Both of them stumbled repeatedly over withered tree roots and rocks, all in pursuit of the light Liang saw in the distance.

Now that he stood on Fire Nation soil once more, Captain Shi felt uncertainty creep into his vulnerable senses. It penetrated far more deeply than the "winter cold" of his homeland ever had. What had he been _thinking_? Bringing a child of the enemy back to the Fire Nation's shores? He sighed in disgust.

Out there in the southern oceans – well, it hadn't been simple. But it hadn't been real, either._ Nothing _in that white and blue wasteland had been a part of his normal life – rather like some frigid dream that had nothing to do with reality, or with home. Everything had been about his soldiers and their target villages; the Fire Nation and its enemy.

Then suddenly, this little girl with the blue eyes had blurred the distinction. Water Tribe, she was. But enemy? No. And that's where the line had broken. Who were his enemies?

Water, Earth, Air, they were all the same. Always in the past, each nation had responded to even the thought of fire with violence, craftiness and ruthlessness. Liang remembered that fleet. The ice, the water. How they had attacked, completely unprovoked and without warning. _They could have killed one of their daughters._ No, no nation was innocent.

But Katara was still here. Just a child, just an innocent child. And children have no nations.

This girl – she'd just fallen out of that separate reality and into this one. And Liang no longer felt so sure that he'd done right.

Lost in thought, he had barely realized it when he and Katara staggered into the clearing before the small town's wall.

Liang smiled, of his own volition this time. His imaginings of the succulent smells of some kind of gently simmering meat and tea made him weak at the knees, and the gentle pluck guqin strings lulled him. At last, something familiar.

Grabbing Katara's hand, the famished traveler almost charged across the field with the surge of adrenaline that accompanied the thought of food and rest and _home_. But her fingers just slipped limply from his own.

When Liang turned around, Katara had all but disappeared from sight in the long grass.

"Katara?" he called hoarsely. Some of the grass stirred, and he saw that she lay still on the ground. Liang could have burnt himself in guilt and embarrassment. He'd underestimated how weak she'd been.

He rushed over to kneel by her side, careful with her head as he lifted her up. The girl hadn't fainted, he found; she'd just become so fatigued she couldn't support herself anymore. What a fool he'd been, to let his own ponderings distract him from caring for the child that _he'd_ dragged here in the first place.

"All right," he said, hoping that the sound of his voice might be some comfort to her. "Let's get you some food. I'll bet you're hungry, huh?"

It felt a little foolish to talk like that. But the feel of a small twitch against his shoulder convinced the man that she had listened with some part of her mind, and had even tried to respond.

Carrying the two-year-old in the crook of his left arm, Liang ran around the wall, searching for an entrance. Finally he crossed a road – most likely it connected to a better beach than what he had found – and hurtled through the town's open gate. He thanked whatever spirits that had been watching that the war was purely offensive. Otherwise the security would likely have been much tighter. He scanned the swinging signs for an inn, or a restaurant, or _something _– there!

Liang practically leapt to the tavern's fine bamboo-woven door. He unceremoniously ripped it open and lurched in the door.

"Help me!" he cried.

The buzz of friendly conversations, chairs scraping against the fine basalt floor and the guqin playing all crumbled into silence as the guests took in the sight of this stranger. He looked absolutely ragged – his lips had parched, skin cracked, and his hair seemed to have run wild, and the sharp edges of his sideburns had been blurred by in-growing whiskers. Even his clothes looked like they had taken a harrowing run through the mill. Most of all, his eyes disturbed them. They were stretched, with both pupils dilated a bit from sun, fear and panic.

"Please, she needs food and care – now!"

Only then did the host, a man named Guan Fai, see the small, blue-clad girl in his arms. The host, though wary to approach the wild man, hurried forward to take the toddler from him.

"What happened here?" Guan Fai asked, still shocked over this stranger and the oddly-dressed girl he had brought with him. But the man ignored his question.

"Will she be all right?"

He felt the child's pulse, and checked her vitals quickly.

"It looks like she's just fatigued and hungry," he said. Light conversations crept back in, and the guqin struck up again. Host Guan peered at the stranger shrewdly. "When was the last time she's eaten?"

"Over two days ago," the man answered.

Guan raised his eyebrow, wondering silently who this man was and what he had been up to. He didn't want to be some kind of accessory to a kidnap or other crime. But the girl needed to be taken care of either way.

"Chen!" He snapped out his wife's name. "Get this girl fed and bathed!"

She stepped forward confidently and grabbed the child from her husband, casting dark glances at the stranger on her way to the kitchen to find something hot. Guan, meanwhile, settled himself at the bar.

"Take a seat," he grunted. "I'll grab you some tea." The ragged man obeyed, slumping a bit.

"So. Where do you hail from, traveler?" Guan asked when he returned, keeping his voice neutral.

The guest didn't answer, and instead drank deeply from his steaming cup.

"How did you come by that girl, again?"

"I…found her…." The man mumbled between careful sips. He appeared to focus more on not scorching his tongue again than on this conversation.

"Strange clothing she wore," Guan mused. "Those colors, and the weave. They seemed –" he paused for emphasis – "foreign, almost."

His sharp eyes didn't miss how the stranger gripped his cup, or the way his eyes flashed suspiciously.

"I'd hate to accuse any guest of mine, sir. But you cannot deny, the circumstances are a bit shady." Guan lowered his voice. "If you've kidnapped someone's child, that's sinister enough. But," and he lowered his voice even further, so that Liang had to lean in to hear, despite himself, "if you've brought a _Water_ child to the Fire Nation? That could be called treason."

Liang stood abruptly, feeling the adrenaline rush through his body. They had to get out. Now.

"Sit down," Guan said. Unwillingly, the battered captain resisted…but what could he do? Katara had to be cared for, so he had to stay. He cast the host a resentful glance, and sat down heavily.

"You're my guest. You are under my hospitality. Have something to eat." He pushed a menu towards Liang. "When you find something you'd like, order it from one of the maidservants."

The host retreated, and Liang had nothing left to do but peruse the list before him. But even as he ate, chewing slowly, his eyes darted around the room, studying each face, every corner. _Nowhere is safe._

* * *

Well-fed, revitalized and huddled in a large, empty iron tub, Katara felt extremely exposed. She was too young to care about who saw her – she hadn't learned embarrassment yet. Rather, she missed the layers of clothing that she had always kept close to her skin. The two-year-old didn't feel cold at all, as she had earlier on that big ship. But she disliked the way the _air_ warmed her now, instead of her thick seal-bear furs.

That woman had said something about a "bath," but then had dumped her in this big pail. Katara felt confused – didn't "bath" mean when Her Mama used lukewarm, wet sponges to get her all clean?

Oh, look, the lady was back. With a smaller bucket, now.

"You goin'a fill this up?" Katara asked curiously.

"Yes, for your bath," the woman said and smiled.

"Okay," Katara replied cagily. She braced herself for an icy shower, remembering the time she'd fallen into the sea.

Instead, a jet of steaming hot water cascaded from the traitorous bucket to splash over her head and shoulders.

"Hot!" she screeched, scrambling to back away from the growing pool at the bottom of the tub.

"Well, what did you expect?" the lady asked amusedly, "a bucket of ice?"

Another pailful emptied into the tub, and Katara sat in a chest-deep lake of the piping hot liquid.

It felt so weird! Goose-toad pimples raised on the skin that remained out of water. Instinctively, she ducked her shoulders beneath the surface to warm them. She shivered at the way the heat slid across her cold skin first, before sinking in to warm her insides.

"I like this," she decided aloud. It was different. But it felt _good_.

"Poor thing, have you never had a hot bath before?" The lady seemed inexplicably concerned. It's just normal, Katara thought fleetingly. But she lost this train of thought to the newfound joy of splashing around in clear, _hot_ water.

* * *

The night passed. The morning came. The host awoke. The lights came on. But the room was empty; the beds, abandoned.

The table bore leftover ink, and the drawer of complimentary parchment lay open. The sink was scattered with whiskers and shaving cream. The full-sized tub had clearly been used. The drawer of men's clothing had been sifted through. The table bore a pouch; payment for the night's stay.

The stranger and child had disappeared. The night, with its dark cloak as protection, had given them the chance to steal away.

The whispers came like wind, low voices rumbling about this wild man and the foreigner he had in tow. The word spread. The story reached a woman's ears. And she wondered….

* * *

"VrrrrrrRRRRRrrrrrrooom!" Tiny iron wheels creaked on their axles as they skated across the marble floor. A small, pale hand slightly padded with leftover baby fat guided the small vehicle in its quest to destroy the wall of stacked blocks.

"Bam!" Five-year-old Zuko, only son of the Fire Nation's younger prince, rammed his toy through the mock wall. Blocks tumbled over his hands and the toy people behind them.

Zuko grabbed one of the green-clad soldier-toys with his left hand, and a Fire Nation toy in his right.

"We knocked down your outsided wall, dirt-pushers! The super-better Fire Nation will now rule this Kingdom!" he shouted in a high-pitched voice, wiggling the red and black soldier in his right hand as he did so.

"You think you got us – but we have _another_ wall!" the Earth Kingdom soldier piped menacingly in response.

A shadow fell over the toy soldiers. Zuko felt a heavy presence behind him. He dropped the miniatures and turned his head so quickly that his short ponytail whipped the top of his right ear.

"Uncle!" he said delightedly as he recognized the figure. Zuko gave a quick bow to the Crowned Prince, then rushed to hug his father's brother.

"Hello there, my young nephew," General Iroh responded with a crinkling smile, returning the hug. "What are you doing?" he asked as he lifted the boy into his arms.

"Attackin' Basen Se," Zuko answered matter-of-factly. "See, how I have all the walls up there, and the soldiers?"

"Yes, yes," Iroh answered, pleased. He scanned the mess of blocks and figures with an amused eye. "I can see that. What was your strategy for taking down the great Outer Wall?"

"Knock it down," the boy said with wide eyes. He evidently considered it obvious. Iroh chortled, and the laugh rumbled amiably deep in his belly, just against the tea and fire flakes he had eaten.

"Father? Sir?"

Iroh turned around to see a fit young man of about twenty standing in respectful salute.

"Captain Lu Ten!" he said by way of greeting to his only son. _He must be here on military business_, the General thought. He put his nephew back down.

"Play with your toys, Zuko," he ordered, and promptly ignored him. Zuko glanced up at his tall relatives momentarily, but then settled in with his toys. He played more quietly, though, and kept an idle ear tuned into the conversation.

"There's news, General," Lu Ten was saying, "from Captain Shi."

"Oh, yes?" Iroh answered. He sounded both anxious and relieved. "I had wondered about him when he missed the weekly report."

"This…is more than just a report, Sir," his son answered. The captain's calm seemed forced.

Iroh raised his eyebrow, feeling his facial muscles tauten.

"You had better read the letter, Sir," Lu Ten said, holding out a scroll emblazoned with the Fire Navy's seal for his father.

Iroh grabbed it, noting by the already broken seal that someone within the Navy's delivery service must have ignored Captain Shi's right to privacy and perused its contents. He scanned the letter quickly, and the frown between his eyebrows became more and more pronounced. He thumped it back into his son's waiting hand.

"An entire ship full of men." Iroh put his hand over his eyes for a moment. Then he scowled. "This must not go unanswered."

Lu Ten's eyes tensed. "Will Liang be…punished?"

"No, no," Iroh said, waving off his son's fears. Lu Ten perceptibly relaxed. They must have been friends, he noted, for the young man to show such concern over this specific captain. Both were captains, despite Liang's eight year seniority over him and prematurely aged face.

"No, I will accept Shi's resignation, exonerate the blame completely, and perhaps even give him honors. Enough to grant him a new home, even. He has acted admirably. This is no fault of his." Iroh's mouth constricted, and he felt such a rush of revulsion that he had to clench his fists as well. "Waterbenders are to blame. They are so ruthless. So cold." He released his hands. "Retribution must be swift."

Zuko had become still for a moment. He didn't know anything about that person. Nor did he care much, beyond a trite recognition that something was sad. But he pushed all the green figures into a corner, and swept down all the blocks.

_New game_, he thought, pulling out a different set of soldiers. He wondered, as he fingered their silky blue robes, what would be the best way to defeat the waterbenders and all their cold rufelessness.

* * *

Fire Lord Ozai's Palace City, nestled in the maw of a dead volcano, looked devastatingly nostalgic when clothed in the sunset's majestic color palette. Captain Shi Liang stood on the mouth's brim, just a deep silhouette holding a smaller one against its shoulder.

_Former captain_, he reminded himself. In the letter he'd sent to the Prince General, Liang had requested resignation. He had no place in the military anymore. He had always been talented in the ways of fighting, and fierceness, and leadership. But something in this final venture had broken that. Liang had enough wealth to last him for the rest of his days. Now that he was home, he could just rest. He'd take everything else when it came.

Liang sighed. He hadn't seen this place in one full year. One entire turn of the world, and life had turned and changed along with it. It had been a long year. He took the curving road downward.

By this time, the only persons out and about would be the servants. Most every noble, ranking military man or wealthy person in this city would be relaxing at his home or a friend's for the evening. Perhaps even at a party. _Parties_, Liang thought. The very idea seemed bizarre.

A servant, carrying a round of pork for his master, glanced once at Liang. He flinched, making Katara grumble angrily in her sleep. Liang breathed deeply to calm himself, then smiled apologetically at the servant.

_We're not running and hiding anymore_, he had to remind himself forcefully. This wasn't a place where any man would cast suspicion on him. With his now respectably well-kept sideburns and clothing, no one had any reason to. The Palace City meant refuge. The Palace City meant home.

For the first time in twelve long months, Liang stood before the building he and his wife had lived in for so long. Seven years of joy and pain. Six years, for him, for he'd lost this past year on duty. And now he had returned to his home, here in the outer neighborhood of the city – for he'd never ranked high enough to live near the palace, or associate with the more honored residents.

He took another steadying breath, then mounted the stairs and opened the door. His own front door.

It swung open noiselessly. Liang stepped inside. Everything, every vase and decorative plant, had remained exactly the same. This front hall, with the familiar tiling and grouted floors, and the smooth stone walls arching overhead.

"We're home," he whispered to the child stirring in his arms. With a feeling akin to wonder, Liang placed the sleepy Katara unsteadily on the floor. He reached his fingers to brush the uneven surface of the wall as he stepped forward, as if in a trance. He rounded the turn of the hall.

And there she was. Liang leaned his face against the wall's jutting corner to watch her. She sat elegantly at her desk, most of her hair upswept in a graceful topknot, while the rest surged smoothly down her back. Like a waterfall, he used to tell her.

She held a calligraphy brush in her left hand, and the thin fingers of her right held her wide-rimmed sleeve away from the ink as she hurriedly scribbled some kind of letter. The last rays of sunset shining through the window behind her just barely highlighted the curve of her cheek.

"Maylin," he said gently.

She turned in her chair, brown eyes wide and startled – and then, as she stood slowly, wide with surprise. And then wide with tears.

"Liang!" She ran to him. The red of the setting sun shone all around and through her as Liang stepped forward to gather her into his arms. He held her closely, but delicately. He felt as if the slightest move might break this porcelain dream.

"I heard news –" she said frantically between kisses. "They found a ship like yours, completely destroyed by ice – I thought –"

She couldn't continue. Tears streamed down her face and made her body convulse against him. She kissed him desperately, as if she needed this touch to assure her that he had really returned, whole and unharmed. Liang held her just as close, lost in his need to comfort her, to fill the gaping fissure in her heart that he had left behind.

"There have been so many rumors," she said, calming again enough to speak. She traced her inky middle finger across her husband's jaw line and kissed the opposite side, reveling in its familiar touch. "I heard – some wild man had washed up with a waterbender girl –" her voice sounded like a sob hid in her throat again – "but I knew, I knew it couldn't have been you –"

Maylin felt Liang's jaw clench beneath her lips. At that moment, Katara quietly rounded the corner from the entrance hall. She held the wall shyly, her opposite forefinger stuck in her mouth again. Liang could feel his wife practically turn to stone in his hands. The strange hue of her clothing; the way they brought out the blue in her eyes could not escape her.

"No," Maylin whispered. She let go of him and stepped dazedly toward the child. "Liang, no." She turned her head to her husband again, shock and sorrow etched in the turn of her eyebrows and the corners of her lips. "What have you done?"

"I had no choice, Lin," he said. Part of him cringed that his first full sentence to his wife in an entire year was this empty excuse.

"No choice?" she said, the tightness in her throat making her pitch slide upward. "No choice! How can you not have a choice, Liang? You _kidnapped_ one of their _children_?"

"I did not kidnap her – just –" he grabbed her wrist forcefully, but she twisted away. "Just – _listen to me!_" She stopped struggling and listened, though her eyes had grown puffy.

"She would have died, Lin. If I hadn't taken her, she would have died."

Maylin watched the child carefully. She noted, almost against her will, how lost and out-of-place the girl looked. She gave Liang no response at first.

"What are you going to do with her now?" she asked. "Turn her in to the General, or the Fire Lord? Pull up some fake history and give her to an orphanage? What?"

Liang kept his face still. He held a strong eye contact with his wife.

She shifted, frowning. "What?" she asked, her voice low with the stirrings of suspicion.

He kept watching her, willing her heart to soften by the power of his gaze.

"No." she said. She slammed her open palm on the desk and keeping her body turned away from him.

"Lin," he said beseechingly. She didn't respond. "Maylin –"

"No! I don't want some _other_ child, Liang." Her face was set, though drops glistened in her eyes.

Liang felt as if a knife had gone through him. His wife glanced at Katara.

"We'll keep her for tonight, but that's all."

Liang moved to speak, but Maylin just shook her head sharply and left the room. He heaved a sigh and reached for Katara's hand. He didn't know what to do. What else _could_ he do?

* * *

Maylin stood at the door to Tai Yang's nursery, late into the night. Mentally, she cursed herself for being here. For even being awake at this spirit-forsaken hour, when she could be sleeping in Liang's arms again. But she could not sleep.

Hesitantly, Maylin stepped into the nearly empty nursery. Most of the toys and furniture that they had lovingly collected to await her son's birth had been burned over two years ago. Such was the custom for mourning stillbirths. But a few things remained, such as the tiny bed Liang himself had crafted, long before Tai Yang would need it. Katara slept here tonight.

Shadows fell across the girl's sleeping form. The blankets had been tousled and cast aside; obviously, the room had been too warm for her taste. Maylin sat carefully at the edge of the bed, making sure not to disturb the child. But her eyes opened anyway, as if she had lain awake this entire time. Perhaps she had.

"Katara?" Maylin breathed, almost afraid to recognize that a Water tribesman would have something so personal as a name.

The toddler sat up and fiddled with the hem of her shift. Finally, she looked up at the woman perched so precariously beside her.

"Where's my mama?"

No tears came with this question, no tantrum or signs of grief. None except the resignation that suggested the girl suspected Maylin's answer. She mentally slapped herself. The girl could know nothing; she was just tired.

"You're mama…she's gone. And your daddy. They're both gone."

"And my Thokka?"

This time, Maylin detected a quiver in the two-year-old's voice. Inexplicably, a knot formed in her throat.

"Yes," she answered tremulously. "Everyone is gone." The image of Tai Yang's beautiful little face, its lids that had never opened still shut in death, flashed before her eyes. Silence held them for a moment.

"But I miss them."

Tears blazed two smooth pathways down Katara's round cheeks, and a sob escaped Maylin's lips.

"I miss him, too," she whispered.

And suddenly, all the grief she had ever felt for the child she could never have rushed to her. Blinded with tears, the two reached for one another. Maylin held tightly this soft, brown girl, trying hard to push away the imagining that the child was pale as moonlight with downy, black hair. Instead, she clung to this other child, this foreigner. And they wept together.

* * *

"Liang." She shook him urgently. "Liang, wake up."

He grunted faintly.

"Liang, I need to talk to you."

"I'm awake," he mumbled, then turned away from her. Maylin climbed onto the bed and pulled at his shoulders until he sat upright against her.

"All right," he said groggily. Liang raised his eyebrows and blinked slowly. He shifted until the two of them sat in a more proper position and grabbed her hand. "All right. I'm listening."

Maylin sat quietly for a moment, soaking in the comfort of his arm against hers. Then she spoke so softly that her husband had to lean closer to hear her.

"We'll keep her."

Liang's jaw dropped slightly. "What?" Maylin turned her eyes to his, apologetic and begging for understanding.

"She's just so helpless. So small and alone. She –"

Maylin swallowed, trying desperately not to cry again. "She's our second chance, Liang. A new chance for a family."

He moved closer, using his fingertip to catch the traitorous tear that had escaped. She kissed that fingertip, pressing her lips to the hand that had always reached to comfort her.

"Tomorrow," Liang said firmly. "Tomorrow, we begin again."

* * *

**Note: the side characters' names in this chapter are symbolic. "Guan" means gateway, "Fai" means beginning, and "Chen" means dawn. I chose these because chapter four represents the beginning of a new time, a new place, and a new portion of the story: "The Fire Nation."

* * *

Um, a lot of thoughts.**

**First of all, an apology for the lateness of this chapter, just to hark back to the apology I gave in my bio. I'm sorry that I'm a few days late; if it helps, this is the first major self-imposed deadline I missed. I should have expected as much with the holidays, as my family always does things together, but oh, well.**

**In a similar vein, WOW and thank you for all the hits and reviews! When I posted Chapter 3 (the 4th week after posting 1), I had 830 hits. Within two weeks, that number had doubled. Now at 6 weeks, 4 days running, Foreigner has 1777 hits. Several of you posted longer and in-depth reviews for Chapter Three; thank you so much, and please keep it up! **

**EDIT: I've had two offers for betas; thank you so much! Zapatorf from this site and Dailenna from www . deviantart . com. Thanks!**

**If you'd like to see a WIP of my illustration of Liang, please visit my DA page. The link is below. **

** Thank so much! Wish **

**DA Link: www . wishiwould . deviantart . com  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Normally, Sokka would eat anything. And by anything, he meant _anything._ The four-year-old had been known to find snacks in the most disgusting – though admittedly creative – places: soap scum from the sponge bath bucket, soot mixed with snow at the bottom of the fire pit, and the occasional frozen worm found in his daily mud-and-snow-frolicking topped the list. Still, he eyed this particular cup of water with unease.

Sokka knew for a fact that he had used this very cup to shovel a hole in the mud the day before. Yet his father had merely filled it with water and served it to Sokka without washing at all, or checking to see if it had been washed. He suspected it had to do with the blank spaces. Sokka had noticed them, too.

The first blank space he perceived had been at his bedside, right where his mama usually leaned over to kiss him goodnight. The child had to pull his blanket closer by himself. He closed his eyes and pretended the slight breeze on his cheek felt like her lips.

The second he'd found one night about a week later. When a crash of thunder frightened him, Sokka had come crying to his parents' bedroom and climbed into bed. While his dad's strong arms and words of comfort had calmed him enough, he couldn't help but feel the absence of a softer voice, and another warm body at his back.

And he always felt a blank space to his side, or behind him, or somewhere in the next room. A smaller one, but a constant one.

There were others, too. Sokka saw them at his Gran-Gran's hut, or over the pot of sea prunes, or on the floor when he played with his toys. Last of all, Sokka saw the blank spaces in his daddy's eyes.

They were less substantial – not like something had physically got up and left them – but they changed a lot of things. Like the way Hakoda acted. The way playing in the same room as him had lost its fun. And things like this, where dirt could float in a cup of water and no one would notice or care.

Grimacing, Sokka finally let his pouting lips rest tentatively on the stone rim. He tipped the cup back and tried to strain the drink through his teeth.

"Blech!" he coughed, and threw the cup to the floor in disgust. His dad finally turned around from the table where he'd been slicing strips of seal meat.

"What's going on?"

Sokka grimaced, but just turned away. He didn't think his dad would understand about the blank spaces. These days, it seemed like he had become one of them.

* * *

The white-yellow glow of sunrise filtered through sheer scarlet curtains in Katara's room. The light glinted off her furniture's dark wood and sharp corners, and appeared to puddle in the folds of the silk coverlet.

The little girl sat atop the covers. Everyone had said it was such a cold time of year, but she nearly sweated her bed into a swamp before escaping the layers of blankets almost every night.

The first few days, waking up in this room had put Katara off. So much was simply alien to her – everything made out of wood and stone, and all shined up and smooth. Where was the snow, and the ice, and the thick sleeping blankets that cocooned you in a warm embrace?

That feeling of unfamiliarity had brought out an unusual shyness in her. For once, she had felt hesitant to touch anything, or even to move. That timidity had eclipsed her usual curiosity and strong personality, at least for a while.

Not anymore, though. Katara slid off the child-sized bed, used to the routine. She went to over to the brand new cabinet her Liang had got her and pulled out one of her favourite new dolls, the one with the painted face. True, it didn't quite fit into her chubby palm the way her old soapstone one had. But these dolls - they had bright red lips, and painted brown eyes, and arms that would move! Even better, they had _dresses_. Nothing delighted Katara more than to clumsily slip on and off tiny replicas of the latest Fire Nation fashions as she waited for the Maylin Lady to come dress her. She grabbed a minuscule satin robe now, screwing up her eyes in concentration as her plump, stubby fingers ran carefully over the delicate bows and beads.

Liang watched his surrogate daughter through the sliver of her barely open doorway. She always needed it open, just a little bit, or else the screaming would start. The second night home, he had made that mistake. Katara's shrieks of fright brought both him and Maylin running. They found her pressing herself to the headboard, whispering hysterically about "the water, the water." Liang remembered all to clearly the day when he had burst into his quarters to find her in this same position, with the waters of the sinking ship threatening and ever higher. It had taken hours of close holding and soft words from himself and his wife to calm her down. Never mind how much longer it took to calm her after a dream about the "monsters." Liang knew by now that she only referred to what he himself had always been.

But in the past few days, Katara had truly begun to settle into the rhythm of her new life. Only once in the past week had walked in to find her eyes red and breath shuddering. She loved her toys and fancy outfits. The various shades of crimson and burgundy complimented her darker skin strikingly. To Liang's relief, once dressed properly, Katara blended in well with the Fire Nation citizens, whose skin tones varied more than he had recalled. She no longer looked lost amidst the sheer space their three-bedroom home offered. The girl seemed to thrive on the relative freedom of life in the Fire Nation.

"It can't last like this," Lin whispered behind him. Liang turned with a start, but his wife's calming hand touched his arm reassuringly.

"Liang, I don't know a lot about our nation's military practices, but I doubt Fire Lord Azulon will be happy about your resigning, without proper notice, just after losing him a ship to the Water Tribes."

Liang stepped away from the door. He didn't want to disturb this quiet time of Katara's before Maylin went to help her dress. "It will be fine," he said brusquely as Lin moved closer to him. "General Iroh is a just man." He grabbed the hand she'd laid on his chest and continued, but with less certainty. "I'm sure he'll grant me a release."

"But what if they don't?" Liang could feel the tension in her body, even in her fingers. "What if he discharges you – but with dishonour? Or – or what if 'justice' demands that he hold you responsible for what has happened?"

A part of Liang frowned at her tone. He knew she was right, but something in the disparaging way she had said it disturbed him.

"Be careful, Maylin. Iroh is the Crowned Prince; to doubt his judgment is to doubt the Fire Lord."

His wife shrunk back, less than a centimeter. She'd never quite felt such devotion to the Fire Nation as he had. Often, he'd wondered where this streak of rebellion within her had come from.

"If…_if_ I am held responsible, I'll be killed." He had known it all along. Still, something about the way color drained from even Lin's lips made his throat go dry. But what could they expect? If the Fire Lord learned that he'd brought an enemy into this country – not just that, but the Palace City itself, where the Royal Family would be at its most vulnerable. Liang knew the consequences. Their secret could never be discovered.

* * *

The sun shone brightly today. Zuko shivered anyway. He didn't like winter, and he didn't understand why his parents thought it amusing to sit outside in it. "We just want to enjoy the sun before the rain comes," his mother had told him as she tied the various silk straps of his jacket. "It will be fun, and you and your sister can play."

"Hey, Zuzu!" Zuko looked up from his toys – these two particular water and fire nation soldiers he liked to bring almost everywhere – and grinned as he caught sight of his younger sister pumping her short legs as she ran toward him.

"Hi, Zulu!" he responded cheerfully. Azula collapsed in a heap, out of breath from her run across the courtyard. Zuko laughed and dropped his soldiers. Seizing his chance, he reached around the three-year-old girl to tickle beneath her arms.

"Stop it, stop it!" she shrieked, giggling uncontrollably. Azula tried to get up and run, but her brother held her too tightly. He moved now to get her stomach, and her screams of mirth echoed across the tile.

"Zuzu –" she puffed for breath now. "Stop, stop! I want to tell you somefing!" Azula frowned at herself. She blew a quick raspberry and tried again, this time shaping her tongue and full lips more carefully. "Some_thing_."

Still giggling, Zuko finally released his prisoner. He sat up and crossed his legs, then rested his chin on his fist attentively. "I'm listening," he said, with a slightly mocking tone. He had to duck when Azula threw a playful punch.

"Lu Ten just showed me!" She pointed in the direction of the shaded dais where their parents sat with drinks, silently watching. Their uncle and cousin stood nearby. "See this?" She opened her dripping fist to reveal a mostly melted ice cube.

"Yeah…"

"Lu Ten, he said that at the North Pole, the whole _city_'s made of ice, like this!"

"Rully?" Zuko felt intrigued. A whole city of ice? How could that work? "But, nuh uh, Zulu. How would they keep it from melting?"

"Lu Ten said it's always cold there. And they're _wa-ter-ben-ders_, dum-dum." Azula had to slow down for a moment in order to pronounce such a long word. But then she shrugged and picked up the dialogue again. "They make ice with their hands!"

Zuko shuddered. Waterbenders sounded weird. They liked cold enough to make even more ice than they already had? Why? He remembered what his uncle had said before, about their fighting.

"I heard about some waterbenders," the five-year-old said solemnly. "They sank a ship." He imagined for a moment what it would feel like to be entirely encased in ice, cold and stuck and unable to move, with a pair of hateful blue eyes staring at you.

"They sink ships all th'time, Zuzu," Azula said scornfully. "That's what they _do_." She folded her arms. "Stop being a dum-dum."

"Shut up," he said, stung by her words, and upset at the thought of so many people dying that horrific way. "You dunno what you're talking about." Cold faces, angry faces, circled around in his mind. The waterbenders frightened him. But somewhere amidst the pool of fear in his stomach, he felt a hot spark, as well.

"Yeah huh!" Azula said, standing abruptly. "I know 's much as you! I know more! You're – you're just as stupid as _they_ are!"

"I – am – not!" he yelled, and the hot pinch in his stomach flared to fill his entire body. Zuko threw a blind punch – and felt a searing heat pour from his clenched fingers.

Azula dodged reflexively, her eyes widening in the glow of the flame. She screamed as she hit the ground. Brother and sister heard shouts from the dais.

"Zuko! Azula!"

The five-year-old heard his mother's voice, and vaguely recognized that she and the other adults had come tearing towards him, but it didn't really register. All Zuko could really feel was the surge in his body, and the heat in his hand. He looked down at Azula, and their wide eyes locked. He saw surprise there, even shock. He knew that her expression must be a mirror of her own. Together, they turned to the source of a crackling sound near their feet, just as their parents arrived. There, Zuko's waterbender lay burning, casting its own flickering, orange light on the children's eyes.

"Zuko." This time he heard his father's voice. Not panicked, nor worried, as Ursa's had been. Rather, it sounded…_pleased_.

"So you_can _firebend." Ozai put his hand on his son's shoulder, though the five-year-old continued to watch the toy soldier burn. A part of his mind registered his mother fussing over Azula, despite her lisped protests that she felt fine. His uncle and older cousin hung in the background, slightly distanced observers on this scene. Ozai's hold on Zuko's shoulder tightened imperceptibly. "I am proud of you, my son."

Zuko felt his chest swell with a different type of heat: a searing swoop that somehow still left a part of him feeling wary. _Father's proud of me_, he thought.

He did not notice the flash in his uncle's expression, nor the shadow that passed over Azula's eyes.

* * *

"Here," Maylin said, pointing to a chart and a few written characters. Katara sat on the floor, obviously attempting to pay attention, though she was more interested by the thread patterns on her new dress than her schooling. "This writing stands for today's date. Do you know what today is?"

Katara looked up long enough to shrug before picking at the bright scarlet thread again. Maylin sighed, but determined that she _would_finish this lesson.

"It's the third day of Shiyue. Shiyue third, can you remember that?"

"It's my free," Katara responded unconcernedly. Her makeshift teacher frowned, confused.

"Your what, honey? I didn't understand."

"My free, my free!" She thumped the floor impatiently. "After my two, I get my free."

"Oh…" Realization dawned on Maylin. "You're three? Is today your birthday?"

"_Yes_," the toddler said, obviously gratified that her new pupil had picked up on it so quickly. "My birfday means I get my free today."

Katara frowned, trying to remember how she knew that. Didn't someone sit down with her a long time ago, drilling that into her head over and over? _Yeah_, she thought. Her Sokka-brother had been so excited…about something…_And now I'm four, K'tara, and on Shiyue third you'll get your three, just like I did a year ago! Shiyue third, remember, okay? 'Cause your birthday - _ he stood up straight and put his hands on his hips _- is your most important day. Mine's today, and yours is Shiyue third, got it? But you won't catch up to me. I'll always be ahead of you. _ And he had stuck out his tongue.

_I will too catch up_, she thought vaguely. But already, his face seemed a little blurry, as if the warm sun here had begun to melt them away. Did she need to remember? Was she supposed to try?

* * *

"Happy birthday, _nuka, nuka_, happy birthday, sister mine…."

A light wind picked up Sokka's hoarse, tuneless singing before it could reach his own ears. He thought for a second that he could imagine the song flying through the swirling snow to find its way to wherever Katara might be. But he shook it off, and stomped his feet and jumped up and down for good measure. He hated when his thoughts sounded_pretty_. It was stupid.

Still, he hummed the familiar melody on his way to the watchtower for his daily sunset vigil. Upon entering the structure and actually hearing his own voice, he pulled a wrinkled-nosed face. The sound disturbed him more than anything else. He sounded like a weak baby turtle-seal.

The four-year-old brought forward the small item cradled carefully in his left hand. It was a snowball, as perfectly round as Sokka's gloved and stubby fingers could craft it. The barrier of snow carried within it a small soapstone bead, one his dad had helped him carve in anticipation of Katara's third birthday. Sokka had finished it not long before she had been taken away.

He held the snowball tenderly for a moment, brushing off a bit of soot that had probably come from his own somewhat dirty gloves. Finally, he stared out to where the sunset would be, had thick flurries and an overcast sky not blocked the view. Heaving with all his might, the big brother threw the ball as far out the window as he could. He watched it disappear, somewhere out to the west.

_Happy birthday, _nuka, nuka. _Happy birthday, sister mine_.

Sokka wouldn't linger at the window today. It was Katara's birthday, which was nice, he guessed, but he didn't want his dad to have to spend too much of it alone. The empty space was still trying to get him, and this warrior-boy was the only one who could see it well enough to stop it.

_Nch. Nch. Nch._ He heard his dad's boot steps in the snow before he saw the man's wearied face. Sokka didn't wait to hear his name called to bound energetically down his ice-packed stairs.

"Hi, Dad!" he shouted.

"Sokka!" Hakoda called over the wind. The boy poked his head out of the watchtower entrance. Beaming, he bounded over to his father and grabbed his hand. "What were you doing, son?"

"Just coming to get you," he said. He smiled as widely as he could and tugged on the gloved hand he held. "Wanna see what I made?" It was a miniature catapult for snowballs. Dad'd like that.

A bit of the spark must've reached Hakoda somehow, because he wore a corner of a smile. "All right, let's go see."

Sokka felt satisfied. Maybe making Dad happy was kind of a present to Katara, too. And it helped keep the empty spaces away.

* * *

One of the Fire Lord's officials sighed with slight impatience, though he tried to screen it with a conciliatory expression.

"Captain Lu Ten, I apologize that none of the messages to Captain Shi have cleared the postal system. I'm afraid your father simply must speak to the Fire Lord about the situation before any official decision can be made."

Lu Ten sighed as well, atypically , he felt that his grandfather had placed implicit trust in Iroh's decision-making skills _by making him general._

"Fine," he said, a little snappily, scowling pointedly. As the official bowed and moved away, Lu Ten felt a large, heavy hand rest on his shoulder.

"My son, what has you so tightly wound this afternoon?"

Since his childhood, he had been trying to place exactly the way Iroh's voice sounded – like rough-grained sandpaper, perhaps, or crushed pebbles falling into a vase. It always had a way of calming Lu Ten, even against his will. Sometimes it annoyed him, but today the young captain just sighed.

"This whole mess with Captain Shi," he said. He turned around to face the general. Iroh always appeared to have gone somewhat to seed. Where he once carried so much bulk in his shoulders, most of it had moved to his stomach, now. But his father always laughed that off. _I just grow in a different direction now._But Lu Ten knew better than to underestimate his father's prowess – he'd lost embarrassingly to the old man in a practice duel just the day before.

Lu Ten focused again. "It's just foolish to make this man wait for so long, with no idea about his fate. Why should the decision be in grandfather's hands instead of yours?"

"This loss is more than simple tragedy, Lu Ten. It is political." The young man frowned, but his father elaborated. "Captain Shi returned alone, having lost his men and his ship. To some, it makes no sense for us to honor him, as I had intended to." Lu Ten nodded. He had heard a few people comment discreetly already.

"My young brother and I will both speak to the Fire Lord soon," Iroh continued. "Ozai hopes our father will allow for Zuko's firebending commemoration to be included in the Sozin's Comet celebration. I hope Shi Liang can be honored at that time, as well." His eyes' focus went somewhere to Lu Ten's left, while his voice dropped to a low, self-directed rumble . "I must explain to my father – Captain Shi is a hero. The Fire Nation needs a hero right now." He smiled a wry smile. "If we can emphasize the right aspects of Shi's honor and loyalty, it would have perfect political timing."

He met his son's eyes once more. "Not everyone understands the intrinsic value of such a man, Lu Ten."

The captain felt this way often – as if his father had just said something so profound that it might change the world, if only he could fully grasp it.

"General Iroh." A man of about twenty-five approached. His smooth, long hair and goatee glinted in the torchlight. "Captain," Ozai added, bowing to his nephew.

Iroh and Lu Ten bowed together to the prince, though Iroh's bow was notably less deep. As both Crowned Prince and general, Iroh outranked his brother significantly.

"Shall we, then?" Iroh boomed, then clapped his younger brother on the back. Ozai's lip twitched icily in a formal smile.

"Excuse us nephew," he said with an air of dismissal. He turned away from Lu Ten and began to walk with his brother to the throne room. "The General and I have an appointment with the Fire Lord."

Lu Ten bowed to their retreating backs, bristling a little. What was wrong with him today? His pointed boots slapped tile, echoing his irritation. Sometimes his uncle's manner agitated him, and nothing could do anything to change it. They only had about five years' difference between them, but somehow Ozai always managed to make the disparity seem greater. Really, though, even Captain Shi had three years' seniority over the Prince, but had always treated Lu Ten with respect.

He slowed his step, disturbed at the comparison between the Uncle who irked him so, and the former captain he'd admired for so long. What, really, was the difference between them? Lu Ten recalled the intensity Captain Shi's face held during their training sessions. He had always studied that look – the one that burned and cut like hot glass. The one that, now, seemed to reflect something in Prince Ozai's eyes as well.

His breath caught in his throat. Suddenly, he didn't know if there _was_ so much of a difference between the two, after all.

* * *

"Hyah!"

A punch, and a raging inferno split the afternoon sky. Liang side-swiped some imaginary foe that balanced near the border of his rock garden, and sent flames into its invisible heart. With a whirling, low-to-the-ground kick, his foot spurted a wheel of fire that rose into a blazing cylinder around him. He jerked his shining arms to create bending daggers, which appeared as if drawn from indiscernible sheaths of air, and stood silent at last.

The blood in his veins had thickened during his year down south, and the heat affected him more easily. Still, after three hours drilling old routines and training himself, it pumped just as furiously as it had that fateful day one month ago, at his final raid. But then he had been doing something, at least.

Liang hated this. He hated sitting and waiting, hiding in his own backyard. He could feel the cowardice crawling on his skin, mingling with the sweat. But he could not, for the girls' sakes, risk too much normal life outside his home until he had word from someone about his fate. It would kill Maylin if he disappeared from the streets, without even a notice or goodbye. No, he had to stay here. Stay here like a skulker and hide.

"Liang!" Even with the distance between their front room and courtyard, he could discern the panic in his wife's voice. He ran.

The noise of a heavy pounding scuttled across the walls and ceilings, carrying a tremulous fear with it. Liang found Lin huddled over Katara, afraid to even approach their metal-wrought door.

"I have it," he whispered furiously, waving her back with his still-warm arm. "Stay in the back room!" Obediently, his wife and child darted to the rear of the house.

Adrenaline rushed through him. He pulled the latch, and their door swung ponderously open. Every muscle in his body tingled.

"Good afternoon – Shi Liang?"

A scarlet-clothed official bearing a thin roll of paper bowed, then stood still on his doorstep, watching him expectantly. Liang nodded tersely, and the man held out the scroll.

"No!" Maylin hissed in panic. Suddenly, Liang felt a pressure against his leg. He reached his hand down to brush Katara's head out of instinct as she twined her fingers tightly around his knee. He looked back at the messenger, trying to shade the fear in his eyes.

"Is this your daughter?" The official smiled indulgently.

"Yes," Liang said hesitantly, not sure how widely the story of his dead child had spread. _Does he know?_ He took the scroll, and willed the man to leave.

"How old is she?"

"She just turned three." He could feel Maylin approaching carefully behind him, and reached his hand out to her. She took it, pressing her sweaty palm to his and placing her other hand on Katara's shoulder.

"Oh yes," the voluble messenger said, with an air of recognition. "I remember the pregnancy. A difficult one, wasn't it?" He looked to Maylin.

She nodded in silence. Liang doubted she could trust herself to speak.

"Well, she's a pretty little girl," the official said, bowing in departure.

"Yeh," Liang said inarticulately. He gathered his wits enough to give a short bow before closing the door. The parchment in his hand had gone sticky with his sweat. He cleared his throat.

"Come on," he said to Lin, who had gone still as a statue. He guided his wife and daughter to a nearby sofa, where the two adults slowly sat. Katara watched them, feeling their fear press into her pores.

Liang opened the note and perused it quickly.

_Former Captain Shi Liang,_

_Your presence and that of your family are requested at Fire Lord Azulon's palace one week hence. The Fire Lord intends to honor you for your courage at the Royal Celebration of that glorious day in history, the Day of Sozin's Comet. The Fire Lord will thank you personally; please dress accordingly. Respond promptly to confirm receipt._

_Prince-General Iroh,_

_Dragon of the West_

A long, slow breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding let out of Liang like water through a cracked dam.

"Liang?" The worry in her voice was palpable.

"They want to honor us," he said haltingly. "Lin," he took her hand in his and squeezed it tightly, "the Fire Lord is going to honor us, personally, at the Comet celebration!"

She looked completely dumbfounded, but Liang could not withhold his relief any longer. He stood and picked Katara up with a flourish. "We're going to a party, 'tara!"

"Pawty?" she asked, then giggled as he spun her around the room.

_We're safe,_ he thought. _As long as the Fire Lord accepts us, we'll be safe._

Everything rested, then, on this celebration, one week from today. Everything would be all right, then. So overcome was Liang that he didn't even recognize the fear that still haunted the shadows of Maylin's face.

* * *

**_Edit: I usually respond to almost all reviews, but tendinitis is striking again. I will now devote all typing time to Foreigner and beta-ing; I'm sorry if your review goes unanswered for the next few weeks!_  
**

**Here we are, after the longest break in Foreigner history! I'm very sorry for the wait - between my creative dry spell, school, and beta-ing for Callisto Hime the most intensely I ever have before (working together for over 80 hours in the last two weeks, never mind the month before that), it was very difficult. But AtA chapter 14 went up Sunday night, and suddenly Foreigner told me why I had writer's block! It took rereading chs 1-4 to do it, but do it it did.**

** Meanwhile...wow, up to 3316 hits and 70 reviews. O.O Thank you all, so much.**

**Notes: "nuka" is an Inuit word for "sister." Generally I avoid using other languages in the Avatar world, since they all speak English in the show, but I browsed it just for fun...and suddenly couldn't get it out of my head. So there you go, Inuit culture! -nod-**

**Also, "Shiyue" is a month in the Chinese calendar that corresponds the the last week of November and the first three weeks of December.  
**

** And many thanks to my two new, marvelous betas, Dailenna and Zapatorf! Your willingness to help and support me are invaluable.**

**Thanks again to Callisto Hime, who has been with me every step of the way with Foreigner - reading segments by IM, encouraging, and being all-around the most wonderful girl EVER. **

**My DA page: wishiwould . deviantart . com **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A pair of slender eyebrows rested at a deeply slanted angle above the young, golden eyes to which they belonged. Contracted sharply in deep focus, those eyes stared threateningly at the two stock-still fingers before them, as if the entire fate of the Fire Nation depended on the result of this three-year-old girl's experiment. She grunted.

_Pzzt._ Two sparks leapt from Azula's fingertips. One jumped onto her gossamer night robe and burnt a small hole into its color. She shrieked and scrambled backwards, backing directly into the stony wall of this secluded room of the palace. The hole dilated and glowed red at the edges. Before it could catch in her hair, Azula tore the robe off and threw it to the ground.

The little girl shivered tremulously. Only a thin night gown protected her from early winter's cold now. Fanned by a light draft, the invisible heat birthed a blaze that ate away the rest of her gauzy robe. The flames' flickering red glow illuminated the undersides of her soft face, casting shadows where light should have been.

_So you_ are _a firebender_. Young as she was, Azula understood full well the import of those words. They told her that Father loved Zuko, was proud of Zuko.

She didn't know why it made such a difference. All she knew was that the corner of his eye and the bland smile he'd used to turn on her had disappeared. Father had traded them in for a proud smile and eyes that kept locked on Zuko's every move. And Zuko had traded all his time with her for that smile, too.

_I can be as good as you, Zuzu_. And maybe, once she was, they could play together. Just like they had before all this started. Except she'd be better. Of course.

Her robe lay in ashes now. The room and all its contents had surrendered to darkness, save for the brightness in her eyes. Azula took a breath, drawing her hands into herself, and pushing downward as she exhaled.

She opened her eyes. New focus. A new try. One dimpled elbow drew up behind her head, and she held her other two fingers far in front of her again. Ready. She was ready. She closed her eyes one last time, and took a breath.

"Nnh!"

Azula's high-pitched, girlish grunt didn't even reach far enough to touch the ceiling's tiles.

But the light erupting from her fingertips did.

She smiled.

Father would be pleased.

* * *

"Ow!" Zuko cried, then stuck out his lip in a pout and folded his arms.

"I'm sorry, Zuko," his mother answered in her even, soothing voice. She pulled the wooden brush upward through the roots of his hair again. "We just need you to look extra-special for this extra-special party." She reached around to tickle his sides.

Zuko giggled a little, but stopped immediately as the brush's spines dug into his scalp once more. He wriggled in rebellion.

"Hold still," Ursa urged more sternly, then tied the formal knot atop his head, as opposed to his usual ponytail. His skin still prickled painfully. The knot felt too loose, too. But he knew from experience that a servant would come along to fix it later, with a wet comb and fire flakes to appease him.

"There," she finished, pleased. "Look at yourself." She turned his soft young face toward the window.

His reflection and the well-lit interior shone bright and semi-transparent on the glass before the semi-darkness outside, except where the brighter lights of fire torches and firecrackers various partygoers used lit up the scene. He reached out to touch the window, where a comet-shaped fire puppet danced on the grounds just behind his eye's reflection. He smiled.

"That's your party, Zuko," his mother said, scooting up behind him to take him into her lap. "Tonight's the night your great-grandfather Sozin used the comet to defeat the Air nation, do you remember?"

The five-year-old nodded, entranced by the dancing lights outside.

"Do you remember what you're going to do tonight, too?"

He nodded again. "Show Grandfaver Azulon my firebending."

"That's right," she answered, hugging him warmly. "And you remember when?"

"After the dinner's over and Daddy says to," he recited.

"Very good, Zuko." She kissed his neck, tickling his tummy. Zuko shrieked with laughter. "And after the holiday's over, we can go back home to Ember Island, and your father can teach you more firebending, okay?"

Zuko nodded, then tensed at the reflection he saw approaching in the mirror.

"You really expect I'll be teaching him myself?"

Ursa stood, and turned around. "Prince Ozai," she said evenly, bowing quickly before she reached up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He returned the gesture, and she smiled. "Sometimes," she specified. "He's your son," she reminded him gently.

"He'll be starting school, and they'll teach him all he needs there," Ozai answered, looking down at the boy. Ursa's gaze followed her husband's. "He'll need to learn much more before we train together."

"He will," Ursa promised. She looked at Zuko fondly, though he stood a little aloof, as if unsure what to do. "He's a special boy."

Ozai nodded absently. "Come," he said, taking her hand. "The servants will finish preparing him."

Ursa nodded as well. "Come, Zuko," she repeated, stretching out her other hand. "They already have Azula in her dress; it's your turn."

"But I don't want – "

A look from his father was enough to silence Zuko. He followed, what he'd just heard tumbling in the back of his brain along with several other thoughts he'd never finished thinking.

* * *

Even hours before the Royal family would officially join the party, hundreds of guests had arrived in the broad palace courtyards. Despite the early nightfall this time of year, revelers bearing torches, yellow and orange lanterns, and fire-shows kept the area as bright as any summer sunset.

A particularly bright streak caught Katara's eye, and she squeezed Liang's hand, but didn't look up at him. The lights of fire danced in her eyes. Like the flames from her dream-monster soldiers, but not. This fire was happy. Making circles and shapes in the air, with other kids laughing and running between them.

A boy dashed out from beneath a puppet cart, guffawing with mirth as another child chased him.

_Sokka?_ Katara's head perked up. But her Liang-friend tugged her in the other direction.

"Come on, Katara," he warned. Liang's narrow eyes darted sharply around the courtyard. His confidence of the week before had waned with every passing day as the party approached. Anyone, at any moment, could see something wrong in the little girl's eyes. Too many questions they could ask…and if he didn't have answers, that was it.

Maylin pulled at him. "Wear a smile, dear," she encouraged, though he could feel a deep trembling in her arm. He patted it lightly, and tried to smile.

A noble Liang was vaguely familiar with – Chin? – nearly stumbled over Katara.

"Watch it," Liang snarled. Maylin put a calming hand on his shoulder, and he exhaled slowly through his nostrils.

"Oh!" Chin – right? Was that his name? – exclaimed. "Sorry, sir!" He smiled down at Katara. "Sorry, little one." He looked up at Liang, and his eyes widened. "OH! Captain Shi, Sir!" He saluted. "I'd heard you've been back these past couple months, wow! It's been years!" His eyes slid down to Katara. Liang could see the thought in his eyes.

"More years than we had quite remembered, aren't they?" Liang smiled stiffly. "Meet my daughter, Katara. Katara, this is Chin."

A slightly pained look crossed "Chin"'s features, but he swallowed it and smiled at the girl. "Hello, Katara," he bowed.

Katara smiled coyly at him and waved her fingers. Liang gave her a stern look, and she suddenly remembered to bow, her little top-knot nearly touching the floor. Maylin smiled fondly at the little red-clad girl.

"So, wow," Chin said. "You finally had a baby then, huh?"

Liang nodded stiffly, and Maylin squeezed his hand.

"Wow," he finished lamely. "Well – "

"Captain Shi?" a feminine voice called over his shoulder.

"Excuse me," Liang interrupted, and turned away from Chin, who mumbled embarrassedly and then scurried away. He and Maylin, pulling Katara between them now, turned to the woman standing behind them. She held an infant.

"Ma'am?" A vague tremor of familiarity buzzed in his brain. Did he know this woman…?

"Sir," she answered, bowing quickly. The Shi family followed suit, Katara proudly this time. "You knew my husband…"

It clicked. _On_. A wave of compassion swept over him. He blanched, seeing the infant again, and the sadness in its mother's eyes. Maylin caught the silent exchange, and with a whisper that she was taking Katara to walk, quickly disappeared with the child.

"I did," Liang confirmed, barely registering his wife's disappearance. "A good man. He died with honor."

On's wife nodded, tears beading in the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, Sir."

He nodded again, and shifted awkwardly. What else was there for him to say? He was still grieving On, in his own way: silence. On, and all the other men he'd lost. But especially On.

"What was your name?"

"Zara, Sir." His eyes flicked to the child. "And On Ji," she continued. "For her father."

A flash of pain crossed his features.

"Zara," Liang began, then cleared his throat. "I will personally ensure that you'll be cared for. You, and all the other widows of my crew."

"Thank you, Sir."

They stood there together for a moment, as if there were more left unsaid, and neither knew quite how to approach it.

"I – " Liang cleared his throat. "There are few men I've ever called friend." Zara watched him in silence, her eyes glistening. Liang tried to continue. His throat wouldn't respond for several moments, and the silence stretched onward. He loosened his collar and cleared his throat.

"On is one of them," he finished finally.

"I know," Zara said softly. "He spoke of you often. And wrote of you more." Another silence threatened to break over them, but On's young wife pressed on. "He – " She had to clear her throat now. "You were his friend."

Liang stared at the ground, unable to take much more of the sight of her. She, and at least thirty other families, had their husbands and sons taken from them. And he, the captain, had survived.

"He died under my watch," Liang said. "I haven't forgotten that, and I won't."

"On wouldn't want you to dwell on it, sir."

He didn't respond this time. What could he say?

"Thank you, sir," Zara said finally, breaking off her uncomfortably penetrating look. With a farewell bow, she moved off into the still-celebrating crowd. Liang stood still, watching the spot she'd disappeared from for a long time after she had gone.

* * *

"Miss Maylin."

A strangely gruff, yet smooth voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up. "Prince Ozai!" she exclaimed, and dropped into a startled bow. It took only a gentle push on the back to encourage Katara to follow suit. Mother and daughter rose to greet a pair of ochre eyes. Princess Ursa and their two children stood slightly behind him; Maylin tilted her head anew in acknowledgement before her eyes slid back to the prince's.

"How can I help you?" she asked in what she hoped sounded like a gentle, humble inquiry. In reality, her heart was already pounding.

"I'm sorry to hear of your husband's loss," the prince continued, indifferent to her greeting. "The Fire Nation recognizes his heroism."

That was all well and good, but why was _he_ saying so now? What did he want from her? Did he suspect something about her family? About Katara? Maylin tried not to show open suspicion on her face. _Wear a smile_, she reminded herself. Easier said than done.

Princess Ursa stepped forward, sensing the tension that her husband didn't appear to acknowledge. Maylin got the impression that the princess was used to it, which did nothing to alleviate her discomfort.

"I don't believe we've met your daughter," Ursa said with a maternal smile. Never mind that they'd never formally met at all. Maylin seized upon the courteous gesture with relief. "This is Katara," she introduced.

Recognizing her name, Katara folded her hands prettily within her overlarge scarlet sleeves and bowed again. She was thoroughly bored. Her attention had wandered some time ago…somewhere between the funny, slick beard-man's approach and when the other lady stepped up and bowed. Bowing was funny, too. The Maylin lady had explained it to her once, but she only half-remembered and hadn't really understood at the time, anyway.

But now, the pretty lady in a fancy dress like her doll's smiled at her.

"Hi," Katara said boldly, encouraged by the friendly expression and Maylin's close presence.

"Well hello," the pretty lady answered. "Have you met my son, Zuko, and my daughter, Azula?"

"No," Katara answered indifferently, scanning the trim of her sleeves in random momentary fascination. Ursa nudged her children forward, and they each bowed in turn.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Azula stated in her high, childish voice, pronouncing each syllable with smug precision. Zuko mumbled a greeting as well.

"Zuko." Ursa frowned, and nudged him again. "Say hello to Miss Katara."

"Hullo." He met her eyes briefly, then turned his face down again and sighed. She wasn't even paying attention, anyway. Already, the party had gone on too long for Zuko. It looked fun earlier, but _really_, he spent the whole time so far dressed up uncomfortably and bowing a lot to a bunch of people he didn't know, while the _other_ kids got to watch the fire shows and puppet shows and play with sparklers. He folded his arm and glared sullenly at the little girl standing across from him.

Katara looked from his face to the girl next to him. Neither of them looked very friendly, but they were her size, at least!

"Hi, Zuko-'n'a-zula," Katara responded perfunctorily. "Wanna play?"

Zuko perked up slightly, but his father laughed in a slow chuckle. "I'm afraid not," he said, putting his hand on Zuko's shoulder. Zuko's head sank again, and he heaved a sigh. "We must be going to the high table now. Before the celebration program, young Zuko has something very special to show the Fire Lord."

Zuko looked up in surprise. Wasn't it after? He was so sure his mama had told him after. He had to do this _now?_

"He just got his bending," Ursa explained in a gently pleased undertone. Maylin nodded, remembering the announcement.

"How old is he?" she asked, ignoring her daughter's persistent tugging on her sleeve.

"Five," Ursa responded. Her husband's plastered smile flickered a little. "A bit late," she admitted, "but not uncommon. He won't have to start school without it, which is a relief."

"I see," Maylin commented, thoroughly distracted by Katara's more insistent pulling. She yielded with an apologetic smile, and bent down so that her ear reached Katara's height.

"What is it?" she asked the girl in a near-whisper.

"Fireblending like wha' my Daddy-Liang does?" she asked.

"Yes," Maylin answered in a full whisper.

"'S'it like wif waterblending?" Katara whispered, her consonants barely distinguishable.

Maylin glanced at the Royal couple, her breath coming a little shorter than usual. "No, dear," she responded in an undertone. "And we _never_ talk about that, okay? _Never_."

"But why?" Katara asked, whining at comfortable volume again.

"_No_, Katara," Maylin said sharply, straightening to full height again. Ursa smiled. "What did she say?" she asked with a low chuckle.

"Nothing that should be repeated at a public party," Maylin said with a frown, throwing a severe glance at Katara. She clenched her wrist a little more tightly than was necessary. Had they heard? But Ursa merely laughed, and Prince Ozai as well. The sound sent shivers across her skin.

"Someone needs to speak to her daddy," Maylin said with an even deeper frown. Her heart clenched with worry. Katara had no idea how much danger they _could_ be in. One wrong move, one small slip…lying to the Royal Family was no less than treason, and Maylin knew that, even if Katara didn't.

"Daddy?" Katara asked, looking around eagerly. But she didn't see anyone in blue, _or_ her Liang-friend. She pouted.

"Excuse us," Maylin said with a respectful half-curtsy, and tore Katara away from their presence.

"Where's Daddy?" Katara demanded, as they disappeared into the crowd. Zuko watched after them, disappointed to see his last chance for some fun vanish into the mass of people. Prince Ozai seemed to be having similar thoughts; at least about the close-pressed crowds. "Let's get out of this…" he left the sentence unfinished.

"At least the courtyards are less crowded than the streets," Ursa commented as she fell in line with her husband. The children followed quietly behind her, Azula with a smug smile.

"What?" Zuko asked, a hint of his sullenness creeping into his voice.

"Nothing," Azula said, though the smile only widened slightly. Zuko hated that smile. She had her _fun_ smile, and then she had _this_ smile. Her normal one spread big enough to show her teeth and change the shape of her face. This one only twitched a little in the corner, and made him feel like she knew something he didn't and would hold it over him later. _But she's only three,_ he thought, unaware of how slight the difference between their ages was.

Azula turned her small smile back to their father's back, and Zuko's scowl became more pronounced. He hated this party. And he didn't want to show his grandpa his firebending. What if he couldn't do it again? This and other vague worries swam sluggishly in the pit of his stomach. He felt almost sick.

"Come, Zuko," his father called. Zuko skipped forward a few steps, then settled back into his slow dirge at Ozai's side.

"Are you ready to firebend?"

"No-o-o," Zuko pouted, glad to have finally found an ear to complain to.

Azula's fingers gripped her mother's hand more tightly. This might be her chance. Ozai's brow tightened. "No?" he asked.

Zuko shifted uneasily. Something about the question sounded dangerous. "I dunno…" He dragged his feet.

Ozai stopped and turned to face his young son squarely. "You're not ready to bend before the Fire Lord?"

Azula's babyish voice answered before Zuko could come up with a response. "I'm weady."

Ozai's eyebrow lifted. "You?" He wore a small, amused smile. Azula simply nodded determinedly, with faint traces of a smile beginning around her lips.

Zuko felt a kind of slow panic. This wasn't supposed to happen. What was happening? This wasn't what was supposed to happen. "I'm ready, too," he interrupted firmly, throwing a scowl in Azula's direction. She met his glance with a scowl of her own.

"Well, then," Ozai said with that same, sated smile. Ursa gave him a small look, then took both her children's hands back in her own. "Let's hurry on to meet grandfather," she said. "We can discuss this later."

"I disagree," Ozai said, falling into a dignified stroll beside them. Ursa's hands tightened on her babies', and Azula let out a small yelp.

"Oh?" she asked, with difficulty.

"Indeed," her husband answered slowly. "If we can present two firebending children before my father this evening, then our time would be well worth the wait."

She didn't know what to make of this. But he cut off her thoughts before they could progress further.

"Come," Ozai said, reaching for the hand Azula now pulled away from. "Let's see what our children can do."

Ursa held his hand loosely as they walked, a light frown etched between her eyes. She turned to her other side. Zuko watched her with a worried expression. She let out her breath with a smile, and squeezed his hand. His tension seemed to lighten.

"You'll do great," she said in a whisper. "I can't wait to see my boy firebend today."

Zuko smiled briefly, then stared at the slabs of marble they walked across. He didn't want to bend for grandfather, still. But his mama would be there. He thought he could do it, for her.

* * *

"Liang?"

The ex-captain turned from where he still watched the crowd in a heavy daze. Maylin wound her way through the various partygoers, pulling Katara behind her.

"Liang," she repeated. She drew close to him and took his arm.

"What is it?" he asked, immediately alert. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I don't know." Maylin shook her head. "They didn't hear…"

"Didn't hear what?"

"Katara."

They both turned down to their daughter, who stared up at them with an innocent expression. Liang crouched down beside her as people wound their way around him with little notice.

"What did you say?" he asked, a warning in his voice. Katara shrugged, clueless, though their anxiety was catching. Liang straightened.

"What did she say?"

Maylin looked uneasy. "_Waterbenders,"_ she breathed directly into his ear. He stiffened, and turned his hard gaze on Katara. She flinched and shrunk back.

"Come here," he said in a flat tone, and took her arm. Katara cried out unhappily and pulled away, but Liang took her hand again. "We need to get away from the crowd," he muttered in an undertone to his wife. Maylin followed just behind him, cringing sympathetically with Katara. He wasn't holding her roughly…but she didn't like the fear emanating from Katara's little form.

Liang led the both of them to a small, shadowed alcove somewhere along the contours of the palace wall. He let go of Katara and rounded on her.

"What did you say?" he demanded. Katara backed into Lin's skirt. Lin's arms slid protectively across the girl's shoulders. "You already know what she said," Maylin answered in dismay. "She doesn't know it's wrong."

Liang closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Lin had seen this before. He used it to calm down. She gave him a few more moments, and a few more breaths, then crouched at Katara's side.

"Honey," she said, brushing her fingers through a few loose strands of Katara's hair. "Daddy means we can't talk about waterbending, okay?" Her voice lowered to barely a whisper at the word.

Katara didn't respond. She stood there for a moment, then looked up at Liang with a grave expression. Concerned…and sad. Liang let out his breath, and knelt beside her as well.

"I'm okay," he said with a sigh, and opened his arms. Katara fell into them, hugging his middle tightly. Liang closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay," he soothed, the same way he had for years to Maylin.

She watched them, highly aware of the shameful strain of jealousy flowing through her.

After a few moments running his hand through Katara's hair, Liang took hold of her shoulders and backed up to look her in the face. "We can't talk about waterbenders," he told her. "It's not safe, okay?"

Katara watched him with that same sad expression. "Nebber?" she importuned softly.

"Never," Liang repeated firmly.

Katara seemed to struggle for a moment, fighting something inside herself. She sniffed a little, then spoke again.

"…Sokka?" Liang jumped a little, internally. He hadn't heard her say that word in weeks. And he'd _never_ heard her say it without a distinct lisp at the beginning. Her eyes swam with tears.

He shook his head slowly, maintaining eye contact as her eyes reddened with veins. "Never," he said again. The tears trembling in her eyes finally crested the ridge of her eyelids, and she fell forward into him again, this time shaking. Her plaintive cries cut through the air, even muffled in his shirt. Maylin flinched.

Liang's arms closed in a protective circle around the child again, and he closed his eyes, stroking her hair.

Maylin breathed unevenly through her nose, her eyes stinging. It wasn't fair, she knew it. The two of them had gone through a lot together before she came into the picture. Liang had told her everything. She understood it, but still, it stung to see how quickly this little stranger could soften him. How little time it had taken to worm her way into his heart.

Lin cringed at her mental word choice. Not worm. It wasn't their fault that she was harboring this little pool of resentment. But if it had been Tai Yang…if it had been her _own_ baby…if she could have a baby at all –

An odd squeak escaped her lips, and she pressed her fingers over her nose to halt her tears.

Liang looked up, and understanding crossed his face. "Come here," he murmured, and pulled Maylin closer. The three of them held to each other in the alcove, as the party surged on around them.

* * *

Fire Lord Azulon sat alone on his throne, glaring fiercely down at the two small children before him. Zuko and Azula, the younger two of his grandchildren. The one cowered slightly but held his ground; the other's round face held no discernable expression, not from this height, anyway. The cermenonial flames lining the wall on either side of him shone unsteadily in their eyes, like the eyes of every general, soldier and diplomat who dared request an audience with him.

"Well," he started, impatient in his old age. "Show me."

Azula nodded and spread her feet, but his grandson glowered at her. "It's my turn," he mumbled, though the sound carried clearly to Azulon's ears. The granddaughter named for him looked slightly abashed, and backed up, but she glared at Zuko's back as he himself took a deep breath.

What was he supposed to do again? Zuko wasn't quite sure. He'd gone over it with his father a few times, and a trainer far more often. He'd reproduced it several times before, just the same simple punch and blast, but with some work it had gotten up to the point of consistent reproduction. But everything he thought he'd remember? _Whoosh_. Right out of his head.

He glanced back at Azula for reassurance, and instead met a wall of blatant hostility in her yellow eyes. Zuko jumped slightly, unprepared to see _that_ on his sister's face. His own brow furrowed, and resentment pooled in his gut. She didn't need to throw a hissy-fit; she'd probably do it better in a second, if she could even do it at all. She didn't need to get all _mad_ that he got to go first. He was older, anyway.

Fire Lord Azulon sat up straighter, slightly interested in the process he could see on his young grandson's face. "There," he said, in the same eerily rough but silky voice he'd passed on to both his sons.

Zuko jumped slightly. He'd forgotton about his grandfather.

"No, hold onto it," Azulon encouraged. Zuko didn't know what he meant…but he felt it. The hot spark he'd come to recognize. He took hold of it, and a hot rush of anger coursed through his stomach, spreading the heat. This was right. Firebending. Focus seized his body, and he drew back his arm.

"Yah!" The heat extended through Zuko's arm, and a small but strong burst of flame erupted at the end of it. He looked at the fading flames, startled.

Azulon sat back on his throne, satisfied. Azula's eyes burned as she looked between Zuko and her father, and Zuko and her grandfather. The two older men wore the same expression. She balled her little fists, almost shaking with anger. This wasn't right. She was just as good. She could do the same. Better, even.

"My turn," she announced, even as Ursa hugged her son from behind. The two men chuckled, and her mother withrew Zuko a few paces so that Azula stood alone before the Fire Lord. She glared up at him from her tiny height, as if to challenge him. Her, a three-year-old. Azulon could have laughed, if he weren't frowning so deeply.

Azula took a breath, not liking the way the angry feelings made her focus go away. She took a small breath, then took out her two fingers in each hand, and positioned herself. One flame, that's all she needed. Standing in form somehow calmed her. She reached inside herself and found the flames, just where she'd found them a few days before. _Zuko._ She didn't need any more than that. And the thought of Ozai's pride, when she finished.

The three-year-old lunged forward, throwing a fist forward. A very small ball of flame popped from her fingers. She frowned. Not big enough. But a light round of applause rose from her parents and a few guards, and she was appeased.

"I'm proud of you," her mother said, suddenly behind her with her arms soft and warm. Azula stiffened, then melted into her mother's embrace. Ozai gave his daughter an appraising look, then raised his eyebrow, impressed and pleased. Azula flushed, happier than she could ever remember being. She thought, anyway. It was hard to remember anything else when that exultant swoop entered her stomach. Mommy _and_ Daddy liked her. The moment was rare.

She forgot about Zuko, for the moment, but he watched her silently from behind his mother's back, feeling more than a little abandoned.

* * *

Dinner at the Royal Table was far more splendid an affair than Maylin had ever been used to. The twins Lo and Li made quite a to-do about the tragedy of Captain Shi's crew, the bravery and ferocity they'd shown, and how their memories were to be honored. The Fire Lord himself stood a moment in respect to Liang, which Maylin supposed fulfilled the "thank you personally" portion of their invitation.

Glancing to her side, though, she caught Liang's expression and followed his eyes. A young woman holding a baby stood in the crowd, bouncing the child with tears streaming and a smile on her face. Maybe this whole stunt _was_ just some kind of political maneuver, for purposes Maylin couldn't guess. But at least it meant something to somebody.

All in all, Lin felt more relief than anything else as the celebration came to a close. Katara had fallen asleep in her arms some time ago. Feeling the little girl melt over her shoulder did more to reassure her than anything else. But Maylin felt the same. She wanted nothing more than to drag herself home, and crawl into bed.

Of course, it wasn't that simple…well-wishers, military men, widows…everyone, it seemed, wanted nothing more than to speak to Liang.

Maylin stayed in the background, rocking Katara softly as the crowd thinned.

Finally, she approached her husband. He turned to her, and put his hand on her arm.

"Let's go home," he said softly.

But Maylin's eyes tightened as a final someone approached.

Liang turned again, his mouth setting into a firm line as the bright-eyed military someone approached.

"Hello, Sir," the young man said, with a very shallow bow. "I don't expect you to remember me – "

Liang squinted, feeling a tug in the back of his mind. "Lu Ten?"

The Crowned Prince's son smiled broadly. "You do!"

A genuine smile broke over Shi Liang's face. The men clasped arms.

"How have the last five years treated you?" he asked, clapping the younger man's shoulder.

"Good," Lu Ten nodded brightly.

"Captain now," Liang noted with respect. "We'd be equals now, if I hadn't resigned, eh?"

"Not quite," Lu Ten answered with a grin. "Only just earned my rank. You'd have seniority."

Liang thought it modest of him not to mention his birth. Lu Ten outranked him significantly on the sheer merit of being second-generational heir to the throne.

"You're welcome to share tea with me any time," Lu Ten invited. "And bring your wife and little one," he said, with a tilt of his head at Maylin and the sleeping child. "I'm sure my young cousins wouldn't mind the company."

"They were introduced today," Maylin murmured with a small curtsy, now that she'd entered the conversation. "I think she'd like that."

She didn't fancy the idea of spending more time around Prince Ozai. His very presence reeked of…something she didn't like. Something foul. But Lu Ten was a fine young man; his company could only be good for Liang. And the children's, for each other.

"Right then," Lu Ten clapped, backing away with the same large smile on his face. "I'll see you around, Sir!"

"No need for the formality, Sir," Liang said with a shake of his head. "Resigned captain, no longer captain."

"You'll always be 'Sir' to me," Lu Ten said resolutely, with a firm salute. He turned sharply and walked away, leaving the little family finally alone.

* * *

**Thought I'd forgotten, hadn't you?**

**Oy. G.o Almost a year later, the fic continues! Funnily enough, it wasn't until I finally started letting myself write something else that Foreigner said, "hey...I'm ready again now." And voila. Finished that same night.**

**I've had everything but that final scene sitting there for a month and a half G______o**

**And everything but the first and last scenes was written all at once, too!**

**-edit2- Anyone besides Avatarded catch who On Ji is? ;) The cute little girl in episode 3-2, "The Headband"!  
**

**Anyway, I had a ton of announcements to go with this that I wrote up, and consequently lost......oh well. XD**

**-edit- Okay, now I remember.**

**Please, no asking when there will be a time jump or suggesting how I should handle the story. I very much appreciate all your suggestions and love feedback, but I have the overarching plot in mind and know what I'm doing with it. =3 I know when Katara will grow up, etc.**

**-edit 2- DESPITE my saying that, I'm STILL receiving reviews that say "it's going slow, make them grow up."**

**PLEASE STOP TELLING ME THIS, I know where the story is going and what's supposed to happen with it and how long people need to be younger ages. This is NOT just created as fluff so we can replay the Avatar series from a different angle, though that will be a part of what happens. But no,I know the plot, I have the entire story plotted in my mind, and it might not go at the pace you want because seeing them grown up ISN'T the point - it's all about the journey. Important plot happens on the way. I will not change my plot to satisfy other people. -end edit 2-  
**

**Also, despite being formerly advertised as Zutarian, the story simply wouldn't write when I was trying to force it. SO, not saying one way or the other, but I'm going to let any romance or not-romance develop on its own. =) So please no questions like "when is the Zutara?"**

**Also, I'm very aware that in the show, Katara's mother's name is "Kaya," not Katoka. I wrote the first two chapters long before those episodes came out. I had them rewritten on my computer before my computer's hard drive was wiped, so please understand my lack of desire to dive back in again and change it to fit. I will when I will.**

**Many hugs to all my readers! X3**

**-end edit-  
**

**In my personal files, I combined chapters one and two into just "chapter one", so this is chapter five for me. On dA, it won't matter so much, but how can I rig it on fanfiction . net so that the numbers can be correct but everyone will still get the update when "chapter six" comes out "again"? (AKA, when I write a new chapter and call it ch 6). Will just combining, etc, and then posting normally do it? Thanks!**

**Enjoy! ^_^**

**_As always, heheh ^^; posted without reading through a final time...sue me if you must, but I finally finished and am ready to stop for a bit. _X.X**

Wish, signing off!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

* * *

"Tell me, tell me, Mommy!"

Maylin laughed softly. "Which story, dear?"

"My favorite," Katara wiggled, settling down beneath the covers. As always, Maylin glanced around the room, then pulled down the rice paper blinders for the window, and shut the door. It was their secret time.

"Once upon a time," Maylin started, her voice low and soothing to Katara's young ears, "a long, long time ago indeed…there lived a special man."

"What kind of man?"

"Oh, a grown-up man…"

"Did he have a beard?"

"I imagine so."

"And did he have a dolly?" Katara clutched her own silk-clad one.

"You know, he just might have."

Katara beamed from beneath the scarlet sheets, her wiggles finding their way out her fingers to pinch at the sleeves of her doll.

"He had very special powers," Maylin continued solemnly, though her eyes twitched with a smile.

"Like Daddy?"

"But _more_," her mother expounded. "He controlled _all_ the elements. Can you name them for me?"

"Water. Earth. Fire. Air."

"Yes." Maylin's voice was hushed, but pleased. "And you know what he used them for?"

"What?"

Her Maylin paused, her eyes going distant. In the years that followed, Katara would always remember the way the room itself fell silent to wait for Maylin's words.

"For good."

***

"You know, life didn't used to be like this," Kana started, speaking to Sokka while she scraped grit from the bottom of a pot. Sokka continued to make chinks on the table with his boomerang, but his ears perked up. "No, not like this...once, the whole world was peaceful. No fighting."

Sokka had heard this story before. He turned back to his boomerang.

"All _that_ changed when the Fire Nation attacked."

He still remembered, albeit dreamily, the day the soldiers came._ Fire Nation._ His favorite dirty words. They meant devils, the slitted faces he imagined on the snow men he built, before his boomerang sliced them apart. Target practice.

"Only the Avatar mastered all four elements. Only he could stop the ruthless firebenders. But...well, when the world needed him most, he vanished."

_Vanished_. Like Katara. Here one day, then gone forever. Did the Fire Nation get him, too?

"But someday...he'll come back and make things right."

Back a year ago, back when Katara's absence was still a fresh wound that cut him every day, hearing about the Avatar gave him hope. Hope that some shiny person from the clouds would appear and bring back his sister with him. Now, it made him angry. "_Puh._" Stupid Avatar. Why'd he leave? Before he could save Katara.

Seeing her grandson's expression, Kana raised her craggy brow at him. "You have something to say, Sokka?"

"Yeah!" The boy stood up on his short legs and scowled. "Why'd he go away?" _Dummy._ Stupid old man, leaving the world alone!

"Don't know," Kana answered, turning back to her knife and grit-chiseling. "Don't you believe he'll come back?"

He didn't answer, but his scowl deepened.

Later, Sokka wouldn't take his grandmother's stories so seriously. If there was one thing Sokka learned, chieftan's only son, only boy his age, only _kid_ who seemed to know what was up...it was that he couldn't depend on things like stories. The _Avatar._ Nope. Just himself.

That was all he needed.

***

Beneath the ice, the Avatar slept, unaware that even a second had passed in over ninety years. A green-clad spirit with a painted face looked up.

_Is it time, Roku? _

_No, no...when it is time, we shall know it._

***

**A/N: I've been holding off on posting this till I had a full chapter written, cause it's so small...but then I figured, hey, might as well give you something to tide you over! **

**To all those stressed by school, I hope this relieved you for a bit! Chapter seven is in progress but, as per usual, slow. XD**

**In other news, I also started my own original novel. ^^ Two chapters done already and I'm way excited! Yay!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hey all! It's been almost two years...my pace is slow, but I keep on going! Be sure to note that I combined the first two chapters into one chapter, so what was formerly "Chapter 6" is now "Chapter 5." "Chapter 6" is not a full chapter, just a little-bit-important bit to redirect the focus of the story and show the passage of time. If you haven't read it, please be sure to, or else the events of this chapter might not make sense.**

**Happy reading!**

**

* * *

**

Foreigner

Part Three: Fire Lord Ozai

Chapter Seven

* * *

"_Zuko!"_

_The toddler whipped his head around. His ponytail swooshed against his scalp, and the grass tickled between his toes. He giggled._

"_Zuko, c'mere!" his cousin called. Zuko turned from his pursuit of a brown flying bug that zipped around the field's airspace, and instead ran towards his cousin and uncle. He shrieked as his toes hit hot sand and the ocean's slow tide filled his ears._

"_Zuko," Iroh laughed, lifting his nephew into his arms._

_Zuko laughed again and waved his fists. "Ung-ko!"_

"_That's right," he chortled, as Lu Ten shouted "Hey!" and lurched forward to protect his sand castle. Iroh tickled Zuko's stomach. "Uncle Iroh's coming to get you!"_

Zuko picked up his inkstone, and dropped it on the desk with a clunk.

_Uncle Iroh's coming to get you!_

Sure…not from across the entire Earth Kingdom, he wasn't. Ba Sing Se for real, this time. He fingered the ink stone for a moment then dropped it again. _Clunk._

"Zuko?"

The prince's young son didn't look up, but he heard his mother's robes rustling behind him. She folded her hands within her sleeves, and peered over his shoulder. "Zuko, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," he mumbled.

Ursa raised her eyebrow. "Zuko, you're nine years old…'nothing' will hardly cut it anymore."

Zuko put his chin in his arms and stared at the wall. Nothing was all he _felt_ like doing….Father was busy and didn't want to see him, Uncle was gone, and Lu Ten was preparing to join him. And _Azula…_ Zuko scowled.

"Why don't you come outside?" Ursa smiled. "Sit with me by the pond." She squeezed his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," Zuko mumbled. Mother and son settled on the side of the pond together, with loaves of bread that Ursa had called for a servant to bring.

Zuko stared into the waters, still brooding. A line of turtle-ducks crossed his vision, all swimming in a row. He felt a spark of resentment - the one he recognized as his firebending spark - flicker on in the midst of all his ashy moodiness.

"Hey Mom," Zuko said, and knelt beside the pond. "Wanna see how Azula feeds turtle-ducks?"

Ursa turned to him with a fond smile, just before the prince chucked an entire loaf into the pond's waters. Turtle-ducks squawked and floundered in the churning surface. Turtle-ducklings wound this way and that way, separated, instead of all together in their stupid line.

"Zuko!" Ursa's face fell in dismay. "Why would you do that?"

He ignored her question and watched the water's surface. Sure enough, the turtle-duck chick bobbed back up to the surface. No harm, just fun. And the flicker inside was appeased.

A sudden, sharp pain clamped around his foot, accompanied by the sound of honks and frantically rustling feathers.

"Ow! Ow, _ow! _OW!" Zuko kicked out his foot, and felt a thick-shelled body's weight fling along with it, not letting go no matter how he flailed. Ursa worked quickly to remove the mother duck from his ankle and set it back in the pond, but not before the injured area had swollen tender.

Zuko wrapped his own hands around his ankles and scowled at the water. "Stupid turtle-duck!" he grumbled, feeling the spark of anger flare again in his stomach. "Why'd she do that?"

Ursa knelt at his side, her dark robes and large sleeves billowing with the motion.

"Zuko," she said, her tone reproachful. She scooted closer and drew her arm around his neck. "That's what moms are like. You mess with their babies?" She dove for his neck, pressing her nose into his skin with obnoxious chomping noises. "They'll bite you back."

Zuko laughed and his back curled onto her lap. Her hand slid down his shoulder and he held her by the wrist, still giggling. Ursa's lips turned up and she laughed lightly. The flicker in Zuko's stomach abated, and he leaned back with a relieved sigh.

"So tell me, Zuko," Ursa went on, shifting to put both arms around her son's shoulders as they stared across the pond together at the now-distant family of turtle-ducks. "What's biting _you?_"

Zuko sighed again, his face almost fading back into a scowl.

"Ah, ah ah," Ursa said, and poked his forehead with the long nail of her index finger. Zuko laughed again. His smile faded, but the scowl neglected to return. He shrugged in her embrace.

"Nothing," he answered.

Ursa gave her son a look. "Again, huh?"

Zuko shrugged again. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on his mother's chest, inhaling her warmth. Ursa ran her long fingernails through the hairs at his temple, scratching lightly on his scalp.

"You miss Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten?"

Zuko nodded.

Ursa frowned. "What about your friends? Do you get to play with them often?"

Zuko snorted. "_Azula's_ friends." What kind of boy liked to play with a bunch of little girls?

Ursa shifted to look at his face. "Honey, that's not true. Azula's had Ty Lee and Mai here often enough to play, you know them. And Katara's been a friend to both of you for years. Remember?" She moved to tickle his stomach again, but Zuko shrugged it off, not in the mood this time.

Ursa sighed and was about to try again, when sudden shrieking cut across the courtyard air. Mother's and son's heads turned up as one.

"Stop! _Stop!"_ A little girl's voice sounded frantic, and increasing in volume. Ursa leapt to her feet and gathered up her robes to follow the sound. Zuko followed in her wake. A sneaking suspicion grew in his gut that he probably knew who was behind the disturbance. Sure enough, he heard his sister's voice.

"We just want to see what'll happen!" She sounded firm even in her girlish pitch.

"It's o_kay_," another girl added, with a small grunt.

Zuko rounded the corner and saw pink. He recognized the second girl as Ty Lee. She and Azula held Katara by her shoulders and arms, dangling her backwards over the edge of the courtyard fountain. Zuko quickly scanned the area for the final member of their little quartet. Mai sat alone at the base of a nearby tree, sullen in her expression as she watched the other girls' struggle.

"Azula!" Ursa gasped. "Ty Lee! Let go of Katara, this instant!"

Azula glanced once at her mother, then let go so quickly that it could plausibly have passed as an instinctive reaction to Ursa's order. Ty Lee followed suit with a small gasp of genuine surprise.

Katara fell backward into the fountain's water, a terrified scream on her lips. The water closed over her, cutting off the sound.

"Miss Katara!" Ursa strode forward and fished the girl from the water herself, as the other three standing children stood by the fountain's edge and stared. Katara emerged, coughing and spluttering, and crying probably more than Zuko had ever seen her do in his entire life. Ursa gathered the wet girl into a hug and shot a disapproving look at her daughter.

"You _know_ she's afraid of water, Azula!"

"I'm sorry, Mother." It was clear from her expression, to Zuko at least, that Azula wasn't sorry at all. "I thought we could help her get over it."

Ursa passed by this response without comment, instead putting one arm around Katara. She led the shivering wet girl toward the palace, murmuring, "Let's get you dried up."

Azula looked to the other three of them one by one, Ty Lee, Zuko and Mai, inviting them with a crook of her brow to challenge her authority. Zuko and Mai said nothing, but Ty Lee started to giggle, though nervously.

"I guess we couldn't cure her, huh, Azula?" Ty Lee sounded unsure whether she had believed this intention or not.

Azula's lip curved up in a smug smile, the only kind of smile Zuko ever saw from her anymore. "Guess not." Ty Lee giggled again, then turned into a cartwheel to let out her excess energy.

Azula ignored Ty Lee and marched toward Mai, who still sat alone by the tree.

"Didn't want to join in the fun, Mai?" she asked, faux innocence eking from her voice.

"No." Her face was impassive. Zuko still hadn't figured out whether her voice was naturally flinty or if it just sounded that way because it gathered throat-gunk from sitting in silence so long between each time she said anything. She spoke up very little, at least in front of him.

"Why not?" Azula asked, now inspecting her very short nails.

Mai shrugged, appearing completely disinterested. Before Azula could question her further, Ty Lee tumbled toward them.

The bright-eyed girl in pink stood by both girls, a broad grin on her face. She turned to Zuko. "Want to play a game?"

Zuko scoffed and turned away. "No."

"What, Zuzu?" Azula asked, tilting her head. "Afraid to play with a bunch of girls?"

"No!"

"Well come on then!"

Zuko scowled, anger flickering deep in his stomach. Always this way with him, never caring what he said. And _always _that way with her friends, toppling Ty Lee over whenever she had the chance, and now even pushing Katara into the water?

Zuko's frustration erupted.

"Don't you get that no means no, Azula?" He shouted in her face, leaning over her. "I said no, and that means NO!"

He stalked off, leaving the three girls to glance at one another in various states of frustration and confusion as his figure disappeared around a corner of the palace. Azula pinched her mouth shut, trying with all her might to burn a hole in her brother's useless head with the anger in her ochre eyes.

_You'll regret that, brother._

_

* * *

_

Maylin bowed to the guards at the palace perimeter as they opened the gate. She hoped today's play date had gone well. Most often, Katara was in a conciliatory mood, eager to make sure all her friends felt looked after. Sometimes, though, something would rile her up. Maylin knew that once Katara reached the breaking point, it could take _ridiculous_ measures to appease her indignation.

"Katara?" she called as she crossed the courtyard. Three children hung around the base of a shady tree. The boy Zuko looked highly irritated. The girl sitting down wasn't looking at either of them, but she didn't seem to be enjoying herself either. Only Katara, wringing her hair and chattering to the son of the prince, smiled brightly.

"Come here, Katara!" Maylin repeated. "It's time to come home!" Katara looked up and caught sight of her mother.

"See you later, Zuko!" Katara called, bounding across the courtyard to where her mother stood. She left the prince scowling and Mai rolling her eyes as she turned away.

"I thought you came to play with the princess's _daughter_, not her son?" Maylin asked as they walked away hand-in-hand, a light smile on her face.

"Well I was, but then she tried to push me in the fountain." Katara stuck out her tongue.

"She did?" Maylin asked, biting her tongue. Far be it from her to criticize the Royal Family in public, let alone just outside the Palace, where hidden ears were always listening.

"Yeah. Then Princess Ursa got me some new clothes from Azula's room and I played with Mai and Zuko instead."

"I'm glad," Maylin answered warmly. She hadn't been particularly pleased to find that at the Royal Academy for Girls, Katara's social life had mostly revolved around young Azula and her tag-along friends. But Mai seemed a well-behaved girl, if a little quiet, and Zuko at least seemed less antagonistic than his younger sister had become.

Lin never voiced these thoughts to Katara, lest – spirits forbid – word came back somehow to cast their entire family under suspicion. Maylin never could shake off the feeling, even after these seven years where nothing had gone wrong, that the safety of their family somehow hung still in the balance.

But with Katara's fear of water so strong, her bending could hardly get the chance to manifest itself at all. Thank goodness it didn't shoot out of her fingers with anger, like firebending, or else waterbending could hardly escape her notice – or the notice of others. That girl had righteous indignation down to an art. Tease her, she'll try to be nice, but offend her still-forming ideas of moral principles? Nine years old or not, Katara never hesitated to shout or even fight when she felt she was "defending the right."

But, whether by the spirits' grace or sheer luck, Katara had never yet seen evidence of her powers. She didn't even remember a time when she hadn't called Palace City home, or Maylin anything but "Mom."

As the pair walked home, Maylin placed her hand on her stomach and prayed to the spirits that things could stay this way.

* * *

The first year after the Water Tribe catastrophe, at the commencement of its anniversary, Liang stood with hundreds who had come to the memorial, silent and grave. Most passed, after a few moments. Liang stopped there, stayed, and read each name, remembered each man he had lost. The least he could do was remember.

Every year, to the day, Liang returned to his silent vigil. The words on the monument wore down, becoming harder to distinguish as time hurried on. He felt the weight of every single name. His men, and they had died under his watch. It was his guilt.

Year after year, on this day, Liang returned home, heavier than he was when he left it. But when Katara ran up to get a hug from her papa, while Maylin stood with a quiet smile in the background, he couldn't help but feel that heaviness lift. Was it disrespectful to the dead, to let the pain ease at the sight of his daughter? Was it a blot on their memories to take such joy from someone he gained at the expense of their lives? He never knew, and never could decide.

He lingered at the monument this year, longer than usual. The sun would soon set behind the volcano's rim.

Katara would be ten years old soon. It had been seven years. He recited each name on the list, first in his mind, then out loud. He felt a sharp stab of guilt at each name he couldn't put a face to, and each face he couldn't remember a story about. He was forgetting…

How could he fight the fading that time brought? How could he even pretend to keep their memories alive when, more and more, the heaviness lifted and happiness seeped into his life? He had a family he loved. He worked training soldiers at a very successful military school. He loved his life. Probably as each soldier had loved theirs, before it was ripped away from them. Possibly as some of them could only have wished to.

It was getting dark. Soon, he would not be able to read the names. Long as he had waited, this year, he had not read half the names still etched in stone. He read one more.

_Huang On._

For a moment, Liang just stared at the name, images from years of service with On rolling through his mind. On had been one of the few men he felt he could call _friend_.

Liang touched On's name as the last of daylight left the sky. What would On think? What would On tell him, if he could see the life Liang led now, at the expense of his own?

He knew it. He could feel it. On had told him so, in a way, that fatal day.

_Go,_he said. He had pushed Liang toward the escape boat, knowing that he and the other men would not survive, and knowing that, somehow, a little Water Tribe baby and a Fire Navy captain would.

Liang stood, his hand to the monument, long after the sun had set. If On could see him now, On would be…happy.

* * *

Liang stumbled into his home, exhausted, but somehow…more peaceful than he usually felt, on this, the anniversary of the end of his captaincy, and the beginning of his parenthood. He rounded the corner. Maylin stood there, a tray of roast turtle-duck glazed and breaded in fire flakes in her hands.

"Hello," she said, almost shyly, a glow in her eyes. She put the meat on the table, where the rest of a sumptuous dinner lay spread, and kissed him.

Liang felt a kind of life in her kiss that was new, different… He pulled back, smiling despite himself, and kissed her cheek. "What's the occasion?"

Katara ran in from the kitchen, carrying their three sets of chop sticks and hurrying to place them around the table. "She says no reason," the girl reported faithfully, "but I think she's lying!"

Liang turned to Maylin with a quizzical look. But she just smiled, pressed her finger to his lips, and said, "Let's eat, shall we?"

Throughout the meal, Maylin was more quick, more animated and warm than Liang remembered seeing her in a _long_ time. She kept glancing at him, touching her foot to his, or brushing his hand.

"What's gotten into you?" he laughed, delighted but suspicious when she planted a kiss on his cheek in response to some silly joke her repeated to the family.

"Nothing, nothing!" she replied, eyes aglow. But he knew better.

It wasn't until dinner was finished, the food and dishes cleared away, before Maylin grabbed the hands of her husband and daughter. "I have something to tell you both."

Katara giggled in sympathetic giddiness, and looked from one parent to the other, not sure what to expect. Liang barely began to wonder if – but it wasn't possible, was it? When Maylin squeezed his hand tightly.

"I didn't want to let you know until I was sure, but…" Maylin locked her gaze on Liang's suddenly widened eyes. "I'm going to have a baby."

"Wow!" Katara cried, clapping her hands. "A baby? I hope it's a girl!" She skipped around the room with glee. Liang could only stand there in shock. It was as if lightning had struck through him, and stuck him to the spot.

Maylin approached her shocked husband and kissed him. He kissed her back, though it still seemed like he was only half-there. "Is it good news?" she whispered.

Liang's eyes softened, though anxious strains settled behind them. "A baby?" he asked. "What about the surgeons…?"

"They say that, so far, everything looks right," she explained, though she knew it wouldn't take his fear away. They had said the same thing last time. But still…she looked up at him, anxiety now swirling in her stomach.

And then, it seemed like the concept of another child – one that would live, could be raised from infancy, would love them and love Katara as they would love the babe – trickled into his heart. Maylin saw a kind of hope in his eyes that she hadn't dared to imagine would ever be there again.

"A baby…" He kissed her, a few tears spilling from his cheeks to hers. Then he turned to Katara, gathered her up, and spun her in a circle. Katara shrieked with glee. Maylin smiled, a full smile, dabbing the corners of her eyes.

"So you want a girl, do you, Katara?" Maylin asked.

"Yes!" Katara's eyes shone. "And I could dress her up and take her on walks and show her all my old dolls and everything! We could call her Chen, or JingJing – or Sharpay!"

"But what if it's a boy?" Liang rumbled, mussing up her hair with a proud, bubbling grin.

"If it's a boy, we should name him Roku," Katara suggested, eyes shining with excitement.

For a moment Maylin beamed, forgetting in her joy the treason this sentence smacked of. But Liang neither beamed, nor forgot. He froze, a sudden, furious expression blooming on his face.

"What did you say?" he asked quietly. Katara went still, the smile sliding from her lips.

"What did you _say?_" Liang barked, a horrible glint entering his eyes.

Katara stumbled back, but met his eyes. "Roku," she repeated softly.

Maylin gathered her into her arms, looking to her husband in reproach. "Liang," she said, her brow furrowed with anger. "Don't speak to your daughter that way."

"When the safety of my family is at stake I'll speak however I please!" he snapped. "Now tell me, Katara! _Where_ did you hear that name?"

Katara glanced to her mother, afraid to betray one to the other if it was something this bad. She had seen her father like this with his training school, but never at her. Never at Mama.

But Liang saw the glance, and his eyes narrowed. "Go to your room, Katara," he commanded, so angry his voice sounded hoarse. Katara looked between him and Maylin, uncertain and scared, until Maylin gave her a push. "It's all right," she murmured.

It only incensed Liang further when Katara responded, throwing one more terrified look over her shoulder as she scurried to her bedroom. When had he lost control of his family? Katara was _his _daughter, more than Lin's, more than anyone else could ever be, now! Yet she froze at his command, and obeyed her mother.

Liang took deep, slow breaths, only just realizing that his hands had balled into fists and his entire body was shaking.

"Liang…"

"The _Avatar?_" He rounded on his wife. "This is about your father, isn't it!"

Maylin stood stock-still, trying not to flinch.

"Why?" Liang pleaded. "She associates with Prince Ozai's _children_, for blessed spirits' sakes, she doesn't need another reason for someone to put a mark on her back." Another reason for their lives in this city to be in danger. He felt as if their precarious hold on security had shattered.

Maylin watched, waiting for the tautness in his arms to loosen and the tension in the air to dissipate. They didn't, but she thought she saw his rage soften a notch. She spoke.

"If Tai Yang had lived…"

Liang flinched. Maylin took his hand and drew it to her stomach. "If this baby lives…"

"Don't say 'if,'" he whispered, his voice shaking in his throat.

"If I can't do this. If the surgeons were right and my body won't take it, I…I want my children to believe as I believe. I want them to be raised as I was raised…with hope."

She didn't meet his eyes. Liang took a shaky breath, his thoughts swirling. A child on the horizon. A death, or two, or more, if something went wrong. And the _Avatar._

He couldn't help it; the very word filled him with uncontrollable rage. So he forced himself not to think about it. His vision cleared and he suddenly saw how frail Maylin looked, standing alone across from him. With her arms crossed over her robes, she looked soft, and open, as if the layers of fabric covering her as yet flat stomach still exposed it.

Liang pulled her close, and kissed the skin beneath her jaw. She closed her eyes, trembling slightly. He would not back down on this. Their safety…mattered more than anything. But he wouldn't leave her alone and frightened, either.

Maylin laid her cheek on his shoulder and let out her breath. It wasn't permission, or approval, by any means. But he put aside his anger to hold her, and this, he might not have done, five years ago. Maylin said a silent prayer in thanks to the child that had stolen into her husband's heart those years ago. Katara…and perhaps another. Her children.

She would not back down on this.

* * *

Katara retreated to her room, not sure whether she was more terrified, or upset that, despite the silence on the subject all her life…he didn't believe.

She could tell. He looked so _angry_ when she said the Avatar's name.

The angry voices of her parents had quieted now, though Katara still felt the tension. She wanted so much for her Daddy to believe. Hadn't she always been taught by her mother that it was good, the right thing, to believe? Why couldn't her papa believe as well? Maybe if he knew the Avatar would come to save everyone, so _all_ the people on earth could be friends…

Her thoughts drifted, to the baby in her mother's belly. She wondered how it got there. She wondered how it would get out. She wondered why Tai Yang, her older brother, hadn't made it out, and she had.

_Older brother…_

Katara wondered what it would've been like to have an older brother. Somehow, she could just picture it, picture the feeling, the warmth, the fun, the aggravation.

She closed her eyes.

_Tai Yang, _she prayed. _Please help Mommy and Daddy not fight…help them be happy. Please tell the new baby it'll all be okay._

Katara pictured his eyes, looking down on her from heaven. Blue. They were blue, right? Just like hers. Not too different from the soft gray eyes she often saw around her, but not quite the same.

She felt as if a warm blanket came around her. A brotherly hug, from a spirit long-passed.

She had a thought. She didn't even wonder if it came from her or someone else.

_Believe._

Katara opened her eyes and looked out into the twilight, where the stars shone more brightly against the inky sky.

_I believe._

**A/N: Thanks for still coming back to read after this long - or reading for the first time, if you're a newcomer! I just wanted to share this little thought process I had while writing that last scene. It was unexpected but awesome, the way that Katara's deep memories of Sokka were sort of "shifted" to the brother she would have had. I like to imagine Tai Yang's spirit up there listening to her. I have a feeling he doesn't mind having her relationship with Sokka color her imaginings of her relationship with him! If he is up there watching, I think he**** has a bond to Katara, blood-sister or no. She's family :) And I think his little spiritual influence helsp nurture the faith that was so definitive of her character in canon, which is much more repressed by Fire Nation society than in the Water Tribe! Cuz I think he knows it's such a part of her...Katara without faith is no Katara at all!**


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